The Serenity of the Sword
by Dragonsgirl16
Summary: At fourteen years old, Amethyst met a person who would change her life, now twenty one she has mastered the way of the warrior. Her quest on Earth has now been completed and it is for the Gods to decide where she goes on her next one. This new world is full of danger and strange creatures, none more so than a simple hobbit whose kind heart and brave soul intrigues her greatly.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've been doing a lot of research into medieval weaponry for my original story, when this idea sprung on me out of the blue. I wondered what would happen if you added Harry Potter, medieval weaponry and The Hobbit together and I got this. I plan on having this story continue into Lord of the Rings, which will be posted a seperate story after this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Enjoy~

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A lot of things happened the summer after Amethyst's fourth year at Hogwarts, looking back she could safely say that it was then that marked the change within her. Of course the Dark Lord had returned, she was slandered far too many times to count and her supposed best friends kept her so far out of the loop it was ridiculous. But none of these things mattered so much compared to meeting a man who called himself Isamu, he was originally born in Japan but when he was born was another matter entirely. He claimed to be over four hundred years old, and Amethyst saw no reason he would lie to her, he wasn't magical in the sense that she was, but he did have magic. He was the commander of a great spiritual magic, he told her that his longevity was partly down to his connection with the Gods but that mostly it was because he was waiting. The Gods had shown him many things in his life, none more reoccurring than the image of a girl with a scar on her forehead. He had waited for this girl to show up, not knowing when but waiting all the same. When she was finally born he continued waiting, only this time he watched the girl grow up, saw her kind heart and gentle nature and knew why he was shown this girl and why he had lived as long as he had.

He was a master of many skills, the owner of many titles. He was skilled in fighting, both in weapons and hand-to-hand combat, he had many languages at his disposal and knew many histories. _For it is our past that shows us the future_ , he had told her once upon a time. Isamu knew medicine, obscure healing remedies that not many knew of or used. He was a man gifted with many talents and his job was to pass them on to the girl with the lightning scar. For it was she who was destined for a greatness far beyond his understanding.

Of course she was sceptical at first, until the gravity of her situation sunk in and she decided that learning from him wouldn't harm her and would help against her fight with Voldemort.

So for the next couple of summers and Christmas holidays she was training with Isamu, right up until her seventeenth birthday where the fight with Voldemort really began. She could hold her own in a hand-to-hand fight, was highly skilled in archery though her swordsmanship needed work. Sufficed to say that when it came down to fighting against Voldemort in the Final Battle, after she had sacrificed herself to destroy the horcrux within her, Amethyst was woefully underestimated.

Everyone thought she'd stick around and she did for a while, long enough to see her friends settle down and then she left with Isamu. She continued her training with him and travelled the world, she saw the Seven Wonders of the World, learned many languages and studied harder than she ever had before. The life of a nomad suited her well, her soul yearned for adventure. For four years she spent learning everything she could from Isamu, from the skills only a shaolin warrior possess to coveted secrets any historian would love to get their hands on. She became skilled in things she never thought about, hunting, tracking, how to detect lies, languages and great deal more.

But eventually her time with Isamu came to an end, though he never said goodbye to her, she knew the moment he took her to Shinseina hi no Yama, Mountain of the Sacred Fire, that this was their final destination. A mountain volcano that remained hidden to all but those few that were chosen at birth, a great forest lies on its doorstep and both the trees and mountain are sacred and holy for it is said that it is there where the Gods come to their eternal rest.

"This is a journey you must do alone, I cannot enter these trees with you," Isamu told her as they stood on the edge of the forest, the mountain looming in the distance. "From these trees you fashion your bow and arrow shafts, from the mountain you will forge your own sword, daggers and arrow heads. I cannot tell you which tree to use, nor can I tell you the type of weapon to forge. I have given you my knowledge, the skills necessary to survive and live a long life. It is in your own instincts you must depend on now. When you emerge from the forest you will no longer be in this world, for your quest upon Earth has drawn to an end and it is for the Gods to decide where you shall go next." He gave her a sad look, like any who part with a loved one would, and giving her his special silver dagger, disappeared for his time had ended.

She placed the silver dagger on her enchanted belt, it was charmed to never succumb to the wear and tear of life. Stepping into the forest she felt small and insignificant, for the trees around her were far older than any she had ever seen. Their colours were somehow richer and seemed to glow with life and she wondered which tree would give her a bow. Isamu had told her to trust in her instincts and that is what she intended to do, she closed her eyes and opened up magic allowing her spirit to meld with it. Her physical body remained behind as she wandered the trees, searching left and right for the one that spoke to her. The tress shifted and murmured to themselves as they felt the brush of her magic, they seemed excited and eager. At the heart of the forest was where she found her tree, a yew tree that made her magic tingle.

It didn't take her long to find the yew tree now she knew where to look, her magic practically pulling her to the tree. This tree was the most compatible with her magic, and would hopefully gift her with a worthy bow. She pressed her hand against it, her magic feeding into the wood and the heart of the tree responded easily. With her magic as her language she asked it for a bow and tree consented. She had no hand in the actual making of the bow, aside from the tree taking a piece of her magic, all she had to do was wait. The tree rustled, groaned and creaked until finally a pale yellow longbow dropped from its branches.

"Thank you," she whispered in awe as she admired the bow, it was sleek, smooth and curved and now it was up close she could see whites, yellows and browns in the wood. The string she knew was made from her magic, she didn't have to touch it to know it was her magic, she pulled on it and drew the string to her ear. It was an easy task, for she was familiar with the longbow and her magic only made it that much easier. For the arrow shafts she found a cedar tree which, like the yew tree, eagerly gave up some of its branches to form shafts and used her magic to form the flights.

In the mountain volcano she found a forge, heated by the lava surrounding it, and shelves filled with all types of metals. Once again she used her magic on each metal, identifying what sword she could make with each one and weighing against her abilities, a broadsword was far too heavy and would make her clumsy so she ruled that one out. A longsword would slow her down with its two-handed wielding, the cutlass amused her far too much for her to take the sword seriously, a rapier would have suited her speed but was too dainty for a heavy handed swordfight. Finally she settled on making two katanas with a metal who her magic told her was named Tamahagane.

The process took a while as for each sword she had to first forge the Tamahagane into blocks, before being heated to around nine hundred degrees Celsius. She then took it out of the fire and hammered it into a thinner block, scoring it down the centre and folding it, before repeating the process fourteen times. She also combined soft metal of iron and hard metal of steel together with the Tamahagane. Then began the process of actually forging the blade and once it took the shape she wanted, she then tempered the blade before heating it once more until it was red hot then added her magic to the blade, before quenching it in water causing the blade to harden. Using a waterstone she polished and sharpened the sword until she felt satisfied with it. She repeated the process for the second blade. Both blades had an intricate design etched into them from her magic, on one blade was a Chinese dragon, coiled around the blade and on the other was a phoenix, it wings curving around the blade. At the base of each sword she attached a metal collar which would prevent the sword from falling out of the sheath.

She made the hilt from metal, coating it in gold to give it a gold plated look, doing the same for the hand guard and pommel. A dragon and a phoenix etched into their respective hilts and hand guards before wrapping it in a red silk tsuka-ito. For the sheaths she had to once again go into the forest, finding a magnolia tree that would part with its wood, she returned to the mountain. She measured the size she would need and, once it was cut down length-wise, she began to carefully chisel the wood so it would fit the shape of the blade. She repeated this process four more times. She took two of the pieces, placed her sword inside of it and applied a paste to them before pressing them together tightly, before repeating the same thing for the remaining two pieces of wood. Once the paste was dry and the two halves of the sheath stuck together she then began sanding down the wood, using a protective fitting at the end of the sheath made from unicorn horn. She lacquered the sword a few times before coating it in a white paint, once that had dried she then went over it with a reddish orange colour. With this done she began to assemble the sword, attaching the handguard and hilt to the sword and sliding it into the sheath. On the top of the sheath she attaches more of the red silk tsuka-ito, this time so the sheath can attach to her belt.

With this done she then began forging her arrow heads, this time the forging took less time for they were smaller and made from steel. She used a broadhead style to complement the bow and arrow shafts. She made a back quiver from leather with straps made from the same material.

It took her eight months to complete her swords, bow and arrows, though it felt like no time at all. But then she supposed time flowed differently in a place that no one knew existed. Still even with everything done she was hesitant to leave the mountain, unsure of what awaited her on the other side. Isamu had told her when she left, she would no longer be in her world and though she was fully prepared to leave behind her world she wasn't yet ready to enter another one.

It was another three months before she actually left, though she wasn't idle at all, she practised with her weapons, getting to know them on a personal and spiritual weapon. She could use her magic through the weapons and, once her arrows were released, they would always reappear in her quiver once more. Using two katanas at once was hard, but Isamu was a master at double swordplay and he taught her well, one was for defence while the other was for attack. She also practised her meditation and hand-to-hand combat. Knowing that she was wasting her skills in the mountain and forest, she finally left.

There wasn't an immediate change when she stepped from the forest fully armed and ready, the landscape was much the same, as were the birds and other wildlife. But there was a subtle change that she recognised on a magical level, the magic in this new world was rawer and more eager. It wasn't until a few days later that she saw with her eyes the change between her homeland and this new land.

She didn't know what they were at first, skin as black as night, a language so foul to the ears and a stench even worse. She didn't know what was said but judging by the three women they surrounded it wasn't pleasant. She didn't know what they intended to do with the women but it was clear it wasn't anything friendly, they carried swords of an unknown metal. Their leader, or what she assumed was their leader, raised a dagger to one of the women and before she fully registered what she was doing she had her longbow drawn, nocked and fired. Her arrow hit with a satisfying thud through the strange creatures heart.

She stored her bow, rushing towards them as the creatures drew their weapons, she pulled her katanas from their sheaths and slashed the first creature down, she ducked under the blade of the second and slashed upwards with the sword slicing his arm clean off in one swift movement. She span and turned to catch the third's blade with the hard edge of her phoenix sword, while slicing his inner thigh with her dragon sword, spinning on her heel as he fell to behead the second creature who had drawn a dagger. The third creature she left to bleed out while she turned to the remaining creature, who was wary enough not to outright attack her.

"Are you a she-elf?" it asked, its language though decipherable was guttural and harsh.

"I am no elf, merely a human warrior," trained by a prophet of the Gods, she finished silently in her head.

"No female human fights like this," he sneered.

"I do," she told him stepping forward in a lunging motion and driving her dragon sword through his heart.

She wiped the blood, black as their skin, from her blades and sheathed them before approaching the terrified women. She was in a time similar to what would have been medieval back home she deduced from their clothing and from their style she also assumed they were peasants. She walked them back to their village, they were young and fanciful ideas about Elves in their heads and had ventured off in search of one, Amethyst warned them not to go so far from home if they can't defend themselves. She made sure each one returned safely to their home and, after being thanked profusely, she left.

The creatures were orcs, as the father of one of the girls told her, they were unsightly creatures who ate the flesh of man and were servants of evil. Though she felt no regrets at killing them, she was baffled by them. Orcs and Elves, she shook her head amused, perhaps next she would encounter fairies.

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A/N: So... a lot of weapon making in this chapter, I went into so much detail in the forging of the katana purely because it is a wonderfully beautiful sword that didn't deserve a simple gloss over. It does actually take around six months, at least, to make one pefectly and around fifteen people are part of that process. To just casually say Amethyst chose a katana because it gave her speed and maneuverability felt like an insult to my writing skills and to those who go through the painstaking effort of making the sword. I watched a documentary on how katanas are made and other books and stuff, though some of my information maybe incorrect I tried my best to get it right.

Also if anyone can correctly guess why I chose a dragon and pheonix as the creatures on the sword, I will write a one-shot with any pairing of the first user with the correct answers choice. :)

Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Another chapter yay! This was longer, but I cut it shorter!

Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favs!

 **Outofthisworldgal:** While I did look at the Dragon-Phoenix Twin Double Edge Swords, Long Feng Shuang Jian as a fighting style for Amethyst, it's not the answer I am looking for. But it was close-ish. It is to do with the relationship between phoenix and dragon. Try again and maybe you will get it :)

I will give you a clue, it has to do with mythology!

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If she were to compare anyone to the Elves, it was Malfoy who first popped into her head, they were arrogant and seemed to hold a degree of importance, even those who were maids. They spoke a language that in itself was more refined and flowery than anything she knew and she spoke fluent Italian. Another Malfoy-like feature was that the majority of them were blonde. That's not to say all of them were arrogant, cold and somewhat rude, she found friends with the Lord and Lady as well as Rumil and Orophir. The latter two was a rather weird friendship, considering neither of them spoke Westron very well. Still they proved to amuse her with their antics, especially when the three of them got together to prank their brother Haldir. It seemed pranking was a universal language on its own. She also found a friend in Arwen, the granddaughter of Gladriel, who was as beautiful as she was kind.

Her journey to Lothlorien was rather uneventful, though she had been (and still was) determined to find a fairy. It was when she entered the trees that trouble arose, as soon as she stepped past a certain point she found herself at arrow point and her magic seemed at peace. It wasn't long until she saw why the girls had left their village in search of Elves. They were attractive on a whole new level. But it was their skills as a warrior that had her envious, they moved without sound and were quick and deadly. The fact that they weren't fairies also disappointed her. Haldir, the marchwarden, spoke her language and she was told that she was trespassing but couldn't leave unless the Lady Galadriel gave her leave to do so. The Lady had been interested in her and so she was to be brought to Caras Galadhon. Haldir had been rather short tempered and rude to her on the journey, in return she turned his hair pink, a feat that began her friendship with his brothers but angered the marchwarden.

There was no way to describe Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel except otherworldly, they were pure light personified. She wondered briefly if this was what the angels of her world looked like before shaking the thought from her mind. Celeborn was the male version of Hermione, full of knowledge with a desire to learn more, Galadriel on the other hand was rather like Luna, she gave wistful secret smiles and just knew stuff she shouldn't. They were very easy to get along with. Celeborn began teaching her Sindarin, in return for knowledge of her world which seemed a fair price to pay for such a beautiful language. Or rather, it was a fair price to pay so she could understand what Rumil and Orophir whispered to each other. She could only thank Isamu for drilling many languages into her because it loosened her tongue for some of the more tricky pronunciations.

Her skills as a warrior seemed to impress them, she had gathered that human women didn't fight and when she said she could they didn't expect much. It was Haldir who commented on the beauty of her blades before asking if she would like to spar with him with an arrogant smirk. She accepted eagerly, remembering she had been called a she-elf by the orcs for her movements. Rumil and Orophir stood of to the side, looking a little nervous as they glanced between the two on the fighting field, even Celeborn looked concerned. But the Lady Galadriel and Arwen only smiled an amused knowing smile.

Haldir said something in Sindarin that she didn't understand, only knowing enough to recognise it was something to do with an orc. "Vai salto del alto albero, deficient," she smirked as he gave her a confused frown, "it means go jump of the tallest tree, moron. I figured if you could insult me in a pretty language I don't fully understand, then I'd return the favour."

"Let's just get this done with," he sneered pulling his sword from its sheath. Amethyst winced as she heard the metal practically sing and wondered what metal it was made from.

He came at her and she had only enough time to dodge smoothly to the side and draw her katanas, blocking his next swing on Pheonix, she slashed in an arc with Dragon. He leapt back and she cursed the fact that Elves were fast and light on their feet. They both began to dance to a song only warriors knew, circling around each other, lunging and parrying, the sounds of metal on metal rang through the field. To the spectators it was hard to say where one began and the other ended for they moved so fluidly together, it was like watching two of their own kin instead of one against a human woman. Amethyst won the match by drawing first blood, in an excellent show of her flexibility she had gone from being knocked to the ground to standing and slicing the very tip of her sword against Haldir's cheek.

Haldir hadn't been angry at the loss, nor taken a blow to his pride, he simply smiled and declared she was a fine warrior. She had earned his respect and with Haldir's seal of approval the other slowly began warming up to her. All except her personal maid with whom she often argued about wardrobe choices. Elciel was of the impression that all ladies should wear dresses, Amethyst was of the impression that there was no way in hell she would wear a dress. Oh she would put it on, that was fine, but the moment Elciel turned her back she transfigured it into a pair of pants and a shirt. They were made from a light stretchy material that optimised movement and comfort, Elciel's problem with them were that they were very form fitting and unbefitting of a lady. When she was feeling particularly mischievous Amethyst would make them neon colours.

"You shouldn't tease her so," Arwen had repeatedly told her, but her amused eyes gave way to the fact that she did enjoy watching Elciel angrily stalking off. Arwen often joined her in the mornings, together they would wonder the paths through Lorien laughing over shared stories. Arwen told her of her brothers and antics they got up to in Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir reminded Amethyst strongly of Fred and George, she knew if she was ever to meet them then she would find two very dear friends. "We shan't be walking through the trees today, Mithrandir has arrived and it is the Lady's wish that you travel with him."

"Who is Mithrandir?" she asked curiously, she had heard the name whispered recently and she felt almost excited at the thought of meeting him. Arwen led her through the trees, on a path that would lead her to Lady Galadriel's study.

"He is the Grey Pilgrim, one of the Istari, a wizard of great power. Commonly he is known as Gandalf but the Elves call him Mithrandir."

"A wizard?" she asked, even more excited.

"I thought that might appeal to you," not many knew of Amethyst's magic, only the Lord and Lady and Arwen. "I am sure he will be as intrigued by you as we are."

"You are intrigued by me?"

"Every elf in these trees is intrigued by you. You who moves like an elf, fights like an elf, commands a magical power to rival the greatest of the Istari. Yet you are a human, part of a race that treats its women like fragile jewels, it baffles us all. Amethyst, the girl who defies all expectations will intrigue all she meets and change the fate of Middle-Earth."

"That sounds very prophetic," she responded with a shudder.

"You do not like this?"

"I have bad experiences with words of prophecy," she shook her head, "hell I have bad experience with any sort of Divination. My teacher was as batty as they come and always predicted my death."

"Well I certainly do not see your death," Arwen laughed, a sound that never ceased to bring a smile to Amethyst's face.

"What do you see? Or do I not want to know?"

"I see life," she responded with a knowing smile, a smile that told Amethyst the she wouldn't be saying any more than what she had.

They entered Galadriel's study, the Lady of the Wood sat with a man clad in grey robes, they turned as the two ladies entered and Amethyst saw a man who could rival Dumbledore. They didn't look alike, though they shared the same kind, wrinkled face, the long beard and hair. Gandalf's grey eyes were gentle and full of wisdom and she didn't even have to extend her aura to feel his magic. Like Dumbledore, he was very powerful but Gandalf's was wilder and more in tune with nature.

"You must be Lady Amethyst," he said as he stood and approached her, "rumour has it you are the holder of a very interesting tale, I find myself a slave to such stories of intrigue and magic."

"Then I believe you're in for a treat," she laughed good naturedly.

"I shall look forward to it," he responded before taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it, "I am Gandalf the Grey, and it is a great honour to meet a young lady who travels worlds."

"It's an honour to meet you too," she said feeling a little awkward under such words, "I've been told I am to travel with you."

"You will be doing more than travelling I am afraid," Galadriel said softly, looking at Gandalf knowingly.

"Nothing gets past you as usual my Lady," he told her uneasily.

"I will not dissuade you from your quest Gandalf, I only fear it will set in motion things that have not yet been seen," she moved and, in a motion Amethyst wouldn't have pegged her for, she began to pace. "The only thing, or rather person, that comforts me in allowing you to do this is Amethyst."

"What have you seen?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"I see many things, but Amethyst gives me hope," she turned her piercing gaze onto the girl, "you will give us all courage in the end."

"I hope I can live up to your high expectations of me," Amethyst told her with a small bow of respect, "though I fear I am only one mortal in a world that is so very different to my own. I fear what I can do will only be small."

"The smallest of stones can cause the biggest ripples in the river."

Gandalf was due to arrive in Bag End in three months, he had only journeyed to Lorien at the Lady's request and it would be three months of hard riding should they arrive on time. They wasted no time and that very evening they left the safety of Lorien, armed and on horseback, Amethyst said goodbye to her friends with a wish to see them again sometime soon.

They rode hard, stopping only to eat and for little sleep at night, it was during these times that they spoke. Amethyst told him a little of her adventures at Hogwarts, showing him an example of her magic, he told her of Middle Earth and the creatures that inhabited it. She was disappointed to know that there weren't in fact any fairies. Gandalf then told her of Erebor, of the dragon Smaug and the day he came for the gold. She felt for the dwarves, she knew what it was like to see a home destroyed, but some part of her couldn't help but blame them. They shouldn't have been greed. But greed ruled the hearts of many, even in Middle Earth. He told her of the quest Thorin, the would-be king, would be setting out on, he wanted to re-take his home and slay Smaug. She knew it wouldn't be easy, dragons in her home were terribly ferocious and she had a hard time out flying one, but here the dragons were clever and cunning and could speak the common tongue. She had to admire the dwarf for wanting to re-claim his homeland but she wondered if it was for his people or for the gold the dragon had lusted for.

They found their way to Bree, to the Prancing Pony where Amethyst remained while Gandalf went on to Bag End. He didn't want to startle the hobbit he had in mind too much with both their presences, he told Amethyst he would return later and together they would meet the dwarves and hobbit at Bag End. The Prancing Pony was like she would expect any medieval tavern to be like, they served ale in wooden tankards, a good meal consisted of a wedge of cheese and a chunk of bread, maybe if you were lucky some broth, and drunk patrons telling stories of false braveries.

"So there I was facing down this orc, armed only with me knife," one rather large man boasted, spilling his ale down his dirty shirt, "and I says to it, I says 'you best be leaving 'fore I cut you up' and the orc only laughs and lunges for me but I was quicker and stabbed it we me knife. Me wife had a right go at me she did for getting blood all ova me shirt." Those around him laughed.

"What colour was this orc's blood?" Amethyst leaned forward, unamused by the story.

"Well it wa' red, like all blood is," he responded seemingly unsure.

"Orc blood is black," she told him with a deadly smirk, "if you ever did see an orc, you'd piss your pants and run. Though you'd be dead before your fat arse got very far, then you'd be feeding the orc for a long while I should imagine. They do love man flesh after all and you're not lacking any."

"She sure told you," one of the men roared, falling of his chair from laughing so hard.

Amethyst rolled her eyes and moved to a quieter part of the place, though she used that term loosely for everywhere was loud. She asked for some food and that's how Gandalf found her later in the evening, thoughtfully chewing on some bread.

"How is it?" he asked motioning towards the bread with his head.

"Well it's no Hovis that's for sure, but it's edible," she told him with a smile, "how did Mr. Baggins take the news?"

"Ah he seemed to… well… hobbits are very gentle folk who don't like much adventure. But he's got some Took blood in him, Bilbo will be joining us." Gandalf told her looking harried and worried. They left soon after and began the ride to Bag End, Gandalf who knew the land well took them on the shortcut. Though it was as they re-joined the path that they spotted a group of dwarves, who called out to Gandalf as soon as they spotted him. They all rattled off their names so fast that Amethyst was hard pushed to remember each one, they also gave the rather funny 'at your service' greeting that had her wondering if every race had their own quirky introduction. Though the Dwarven one was far shorter than the Elven one, because who cares if a star is shining?

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A/N: Well that's another chapter wrapped up and time for me to bid you farewell until we meet in chapter three or, if you prefer, namaarie tenna' ento lye omenta (farewell until next we meet in Elvish). Chapter three will be up soon!

As for my little competition, it's still on-going so I will once again repeat it.

What's the significance of the Dragon and Phoenix used on Amethyst's katannas?

Winner gets a one-shot written of any pairing of their choice~

As always, please review.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So another chapter, another day, I've written the next three chapter and I must say I'm like the friendship between Amethyst and Gandalf. It's fun to write those two together. I liked writing Bilbo too, he's such a sweety.

 **Outofthisworldgal:** While a dragon and phoenix do represent yin and yang in mythology, it still wasn't the answer I was looking for. Though it was certainly a good guess! :) and I always love the 'At your service' line as well.

 **Raven Salazar Potter-Black:** The proverb 'when the Dragon soars and the Phoenix dances, the people will enjoy happiness for years, bringing peace and tranquility to all under heaven' was definitely my inspiration for putting the dragon and phoenix on the blades! However, you're half right when putting it together in context to my story. The dragon blade symbolises the blood that will have to be spilled in order to achieve peace…

 **Gurlygenes:** You got the proverb I used for my inspiration, and like Raven Salazar Potter-Black you're also half right too, the phoenix blade symbolises Amethyst's character and how she sticks to her beliefs and sees the good in everyone.

So when you put together both answers, the reason I used a dragon and phoenix on the blades is because they represent the need for bloodshed to defeat evil and achieve peace, whilst understanding that some evil can be redeemed through benevolence and sincerity. I think that sums up Amethyst's character nicely don't you think? (it also links in with the title of the story).

The winners of my little competition are Raven Salazar Potter-Black and Gurlygenes, so I guess I will be writing two one-shots.

If you could both PM me the details of the one-shots you'd like written, such as pairing, rating, any other details or prompts you'd like to be included that would be great! :)

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It took Amethyst all of five minutes to work out that Gandalf hadn't told Bilbo anything at all about the quest. They had arrived at his home, a rather unique way of living that was for sure, a hole in the ground was more lavish than she first thought would be. Bilbo had of course been polite and it seemed the dwarves wouldn't be returning the favour, as they pilfered the pantry, ruined the plumbing and had the nerve to tease the poor hobbit about it. Amethyst took pity on the poor man and led him outside for a bit of fresh air.

"I feel so harassed and confused," he confided in her, breathing deeply, "I don't know what to do about all these dwarves."

"It is Gandalf's fault," she told him, "he should have explained things better. Anyway, I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"Oh forgive my lady, with all this going on I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Bilbo Baggins of the Shire," he smiled a shy, timid smile and bowed his head.

"I am Amethyst," she paused before adding in an amused tone, "of Godric's Hollow."

"I've never heard of that place before."

"I don't suppose you would have, it's very far away."

"Yes, I reckon so. You have a pretty name, it almost sounds Elvish," he peered closely at her and it took her a moment to realise what he was looking for.

"I am no elf," she laughed lifting her ears and revealing the rounded shell, "though I have spent some time with the Elves in Lothlorien. My name is derived from a violet coloured gemstone."

"Tis a shame, I've always wanted to meet an elf," he mumbled and for a brief moment she saw a spark in him that told her why Gandalf chose him, but then he was back to the polite and respectable hobbit.

"Who says you won't?" she questioned with a smile, "we should head back inside, I'm sure Gandalf will have noticed our disappearance."

The dwarves were in full swing once they returned but Bilbo was far calmer and for that Gandalf thanked her. It seemed while they were outside the others had cleaned the dishes and they sat round the table laughing and joking, sometimes slipping into the language Gandalf called Khuzdul. Everything was light-hearted until a knock echoed ominously on the door, everyone fell silent and the atmosphere grew tense.

"He is here," Gandalf murmured and Amethyst almost rolled her eyes at how obvious the statement was. Almost as if he knew what she would have done, Gandalf shot her a playful glare. Bilbo, ever the polite host, went to the door but it was Gandalf who opened it.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place was easy to find, I lost my way, twice. I never would've found it if it hadn't been for the mark on the door." There was no polite hello, or 'at your service' from this dwarf, his tone commanded respect and, as Gandalf stepped aside to let him enter Amethyst could see why. He was clearly the leader, the would-be king, though he was rugged and clearly had experience of the word there was something kingly about him. He was taller than the other dwarves, she wondered with an amused smile if that was made his family royalty in the first place, his face, like most of his companions, was bearded and his hair even thicker than Hermione's in first year. She supposed there was a handsome quality to him, a beauty in the ruggedness of him that was so unlike the Elves.

"Mark?" Bilbo put in, his voice incredulous as he shook his head, "there is no mark on the door. It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark; I put it there myself," Gandalf shot her an amused smile as he heard her snort, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"So this is the hobbit?" Thorin asked and the way he looked down on Bilbo had Amethyst bristling, "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo asked flummoxed, his gaze seeking the only friend he felt he had and Amethyst gave him a reassuring smile.

"Axe or Sword? What's your weapon of choice?" his eyebrow rose mockingly as he walked a slow circle around Bilbo. Amethyst stepped forward, not liking the clear attempt at intimidation, Thorin was practically bullying the small hobbit.

"Well," Bilbo began unsure, "I have some skills at conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much," he snorted and turned to his fellow dwarves, "he looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Bilbo took a step back, looking hurt and embarrassed as the dwarves all laughed, he looked at Amethyst once more. Thorin and the others made to walk back to the dining room, but Amethyst stepped into his path, her green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Apologise," she demanded coldly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Excuse me?" Thorin asked his eyes narrowing on her.

"Your companions come into Mr. Baggins' home, rather unexpected thanks to Gandalf's inability to properly explain things," Gandalf gave a noise of protest that fell on deaf ears, the dwarves watched their leader and the human woman they hadn't given much thought to stare down each other. "They pilfer his food without the curtesy of asking, trample on everything and making a mess, granted they did clean up, but they still did it without permission. Then you come in and right of the bat you insult him, when he does not know anything about why you are here and has done his best to be a gracious host. Apologise for being disrespectful to him when you are naught but a guest in his home."

"It's all right," Bilbo murmured shyly, "he doesn't have to apologise Amethyst."

"Yes he does," she refused to let him think he could walk all over Bilbo and his soft heartedness.

"I apologise if any offence was caused Mr. Baggins," Thorin hissed through gritted teeth, stalking around Amethyst.

The tension slowly ebbed from the room as Thorin began to eat and conversation turned to where he had been. They sat around Bilbo's table, though Bilbo and Amethyst were left standing in the hallway.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked.

"Aye. All seven of them." Thorin responded and there was murmur of joy.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked, "is Dain with us?"

"They will not come," Thorin replied much to the disappointment of the others. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked.

"You didn't even tell him that much?" Amethyst hissed quietly to Gandalf who only shrugged sheepishly, "You are so troublesome."

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," Gandalf said, choosing not to respond to Amethyst, his hand pulling a piece of parchment from his robe. He laid it on the table as Bilbo placed a candle down beside it, revealing it to be a map, "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain," Bilbo said slowly, reading from the map.

Amethyst drifted from the conversation, already knowing what they were discussing, instead she focussed on Bilbo. He reminded her much of an eleven year old her, so naïve and innocent and yet she knew if he was at all anything like her, he would be joining the dwarves on their quest. She was jolted back into the conversation as Thorin stood, shouting in Khuzdul.

"Shazara! If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"

As the dwarves cheered, Amethyst saw now why he was there leader for in that brief moment he looked like a king would. A king who cherishes his people, and wants to keep his heritage safe. She smiled and once again zoned out of the conversation, watching Gandalf present the key he had shown her to the secret entrance in the mountain. Half-listened as they discussed the dragon and finally the landed on Bilbo who, as predicted, began to decline. She almost burst out laughing when Gandalf used his magic to silence the outrage of the dwarves, declaring Bilbo a burglar.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this." He told them and Amethyst smiled at his defence of Bilbo.

"Very well," said Thorin in a resigned manner, "we will do it your way."

"There is another that must be on this quest," he gave a side-long glance at Amethyst, "my companion here-"

"No," Thorin said immediately, "the hobbit I accept with great reluctance, but I will not have a woman on this quest."

"Amethyst is a fine warrior, she comes with highest praises from Lady Galadriel," Gandalf protested.

"An elf?" he sneered at her.

"I'm not an elf," she answered immediately, "I'm human, but I have skills you could only dream of. I have been trained in archery, double swordplay, hand-to-hand combat and many other things useful in the wild. I've fought orcs and beaten Haldir, the marchwarden of Lorien. You think just because I happen to have a pair of breasts that I am inferior to you?"

"That is not…" he paused, clearly flustered at her crass words for her body, he looked helplessly at his fellow dwarves but no help came from them.

"She reminds me of your sister," Dwalin suddenly declared, bursting into loud laughs, "I like her spirit. Double swordplay you say? That is a hard skill to master, mind if I take a look at your swords lass?"

She nodded, a small smirk appearing at his words somehow feeling the desire to meet Thorin's sister. She drew Pheonix from its sheath and held it out to Dwalin who took it with care, knowing how to respect a weapon, he examined it closely. Running finger along the sharp edge to test it's sharpness, he hissed and pulled back with a bleeding finger. He passed it to Thorin, eager to hear his leader's opinion on it, he was after all a greater swordsmith than Dwalin.

"What is it made from?" Thorin asked as he tested the balance and the sharpness.

"The sharp edge is made from steel, the blunt edge from iron and running down its centre is a metal my people call Tamahagana," she told him, sticking to the simple version, "the Tamahagana acts as a shock absorber for the blows the sword receives. The katana, for that is the name for that type of sword, is used for slashing rather than cutting, it is for those who favour speed and flexibility rather than brute force."

"Tis a beautiful sword," he muttered with reluctance, "I would like to meet the swordsmith."

"You already have," she told him, an amused smile toying at lips when he sucked in a sharp breath.

"You made this?" he looked at her, looking past her obviously feminine features and what he saw beneath that was a trained warrior. He saw her stance, relaxed but at the same time ready to spring into action, her swords hadn't left her side though her bow rested by the door. He had seen it on entering Bilbo's home, but he hadn't paid it much attention, it was a war bow now he thought about it. She was lithe and small, he could see why she favoured a weapon that took advantage of that.

"Yes, it took me seven months to complete both swords, I made my bow and arrows too," she told him and he nodded, handing back her katana, suddenly it made sense why she came with the high praises of an elf. Though he was loathe to admit it, the Elves were good with weapons.

"If her skills aren't enough of a reason," Gandalf put in, leaning forward with twinkling eyes, "she's faced two dragons in her short life and lived to tell the tale."

"She can join," Thorin needed no more convincing, they needed all the experience with dragons that they could get. "Balin hand them both a contract."

She held the contract in her hand, skimming through it briefly and nodding at certain points and frowning at others. She almost laughed when she got to the part about the liabilities and funeral arrangements, though that was more at Bilbo's horror than the actual words written. Her eyes rolled as Bofur leant forward with mischief in his eyes and began describing what Smaug could do. Bilbo, unused to such ghastly imagery, fainted and Gandalf was left to calm him down. Amethyst took his place at the table and continued looking over the contract.

"You can take out the part about a share in the treasure," she said pushing it towards Balin, "I don't want it."

"You don't want a reward?" Kili asked leaning forwards.

"No, I have no interest in treasure," she smiled, "my interests lay in knowledge not shiny things that hold no special meaning to me."

"You must want something," Thorin said, put out at the thought of her going on a life threatening quest without any reward.

"No, I don't," she responded easily, "if you so wish for me to have a share then I shall give it to Bilbo. He is the one who deserves it more than I."

"Very well," he said after a moment of deliberation, "Balin change the contract so Mr. Baggins gets her share of treasure should he join."

Balin did as he was told and soon the contract was signed and the dwarves moved to the living room, Amethyst went to sit with Bilbo. Gandalf had angrily stormed into the hallway, muttering about the laziness of hobbits, so she thought it best that she had a word with Bilbo.

"Are you here to convince me to go?" he asked as she sat on the floor, her legs crossed over each other in a meditative pose.

"No," she shook her head, "I wanted to tell you a story actually, a snippet from my past as it were."

"Will it convince me to go?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not," she told him cryptically, "my sensei, a term a student uses for their teacher and shows a great deal of respect… well simply put he was a hard man. Ruthless even, but only when it came to my training, he didn't except failure. I was fourteen years old when he began to train me, he woke me up before dawn and we went into the woods. I wasn't sure why we had gone into the woods until he threw a bamboo stick at me. He began attacking me with his own stick, I was confused but I was told to fight back. That an enemy wouldn't wait, nor would he be gentle, he would eventually kill me but first he would rape me and beat me for his own amusement just because I was a girl." She was aware of her growing audience by the door, but her focus was only on Bilbo, "I grew angry at being treated so cruelly, I thought he was meant to teach me not harm me, so I did as he said and attacked. But anger makes you stupid. My swings were wild and uncoordinated. I went home with several bruises, but he returned in the morning once more and repeated the process. I grew angrier and angrier because he wasn't teaching me anything, just whacking me with a stick, each night I went home with more bruises and sores than the last. I wanted to give up, to throw in the towel and tell him I didn't want his help, I didn't want him to teach me anything.

"Until I realised he was teaching me a lesson, that first day he told me a key advantage I had over others. I was small and fast, instead of attacking him outright, I should be dodging and moving about waiting for him to tire before striking. The following day we returned to the woods and this time I caught the stick when he threw it at me. I ducked, dodged and weaved, my anger all but vanished and in its place was a fierce determination and a need to succeed. Naturally I still went home with bruises but they were signs of a job well done, that I had fought my hardest. My sensei began my training in earnest then, not because I was beginning to defend myself well, but because I managed to learn that first lesson all by myself. That we all must look at our own weaknesses and turn them into strengths. So tell me Bilbo, why don't you want to go on this quest? Don't give me the answer you told Gandalf, you may love your home and your comforts but I know in your heart you do want to go with us, what's stopping you? What is your weakness?"

"I-I am afraid," Bilbo whispered looking to the door where Thorin stood with Gandalf behind him, before turning his gaze back to Amethyst, "I am afraid I will never return if I go and if I do that I won't be the same hobbit I am now, I am afraid I won't be able to help. I'm just a small hobbit who likes simple things, what can I do against a dragon?"

"Fear is good," she told him making him frown but she only smiled gently, "I know, everyone says fear is a bad thing. But it isn't, not in the slightest, fear shows us our limits and tells us what we can and can't do. Let me tell you a secret not many know, fear can be driven away by another emotion. Fear gives way to courage, you may be a small hobbit, but I was a small girl too at one point and look at me now. I'm a warrior. I still get afraid, I fear a great many things but I refuse to let fear control me. I am the master of my own fate." She stood and turned to the doorway intending to leave but stopped as something else occurred to her, "One more thing Bilbo, when we look back on our lives, it is the things we didn't do when we had the opportunity to do them that we regret the most. Be your own master."

The following morning they set out, minus Bilbo, on horses and ponies and it was a good day and it gave them hope. According to Balin it was always a good sign when it the weather is clear for the beginning of an adventure. Amethyst wasn't entirely sure she agreed, but she couldn't argue with his enthusiasm. Fili and Kili ended up beside her and she found herself comparing them to Fred and George, before Arwen's brother's popped into her mind and she wondered, if their wasn't animosity between the two races, what would happen if they met. They would probably form the ultimate pranking team, manage to build the medieval version of Weasley Wizard Wheezes and skip of into the sunset with laughter on their lips. The imagery served to amuse her for the better part of the morning, that was until Bilbo arrived waving his contract around like a madman.

"I signed it," he declared happily, "I thought about what Amethyst said and decided I would regret it more not going. I wish to find my courage."

"I think you will find more than your courage Bilbo," Amethyst told him with a soft smile, blissfully unaware of how prophetic her words truly were. For Bilbo's action would change the fates of all who inhabit Middle Earth, for good or bad remains to be seen.

* * *

A/N: So we got a little introduction to Bilbo and Thorin, the former of whom has begun to form a friendship with Amethyst, the latter however won't fully start interacting with Amethyst until he finds something out about her. The dwarves weren't given much of a spotlight aside from Thorin, though that's mostly to do with their lack of interaction with Amethyst, they don't trust her so they avoid her. Much like they do to Bilbo.

That's all for now folks!

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So I'm ill, I think, I went to the doctors and have to go do blood tests in a few days. I've never had them before and don't imagine they'd be much fun. Oh well. Here is the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I wish I did, but I don't, so all I can do is dream.

Enjoy~

* * *

It wasn't long before they found their rhythm in travelling and before they knew it they had passed beyond the borders of the Shire and entered into, what Bilbo considered, the wild. They passed the ruins of castle, a sight that Bilbo shuddering for they looked menacing and filled with evil. Amethyst only thought there was a sadness to them, an abandoned home forgotten even in the stories for none remembered their names. She wondered if Erebor would be like the castles, rank with the dust of times gone by, or if hope still clung the home the dwarves had built themselves. That's not to say they didn't have any hiccups, Bilbo wasn't used to travelling and wanted to turn around the moment he realised he forgot something, the dwarves had all but learned to tune him out. But the little things Amethyst took pity on him for, when he left his handkerchief behind she transfigured a stone into one for him, the same with his pipe. Though she told him she had picked them up from his house, so as not to reveal her magic to him. She couldn't deny him those little comforts, not when he was willing to risk his life on this quest. Though she was fairly sure that part had yet to sink in.

They crossed many hills, woods and plains on their journey and still, Amethyst knew the weight of the quest still had yet to sink in for the resident hobbit. The only danger he had encountered was that of soreness from riding for so long. Once they began to get closer to their destination, when the true danger began, she knew Bilbo would have to face his fears. Though he, like many before him, would not be facing his fears alone and that thought gave her comfort.

"Hello girl," they were resting on a cliff face, the others of the company were either asleep, deep in thought, or on watch. Bilbo had snuck away to the ponies and two horses, a shiny red apple in his hand. "This'll be our little secret Myrtle, you mustn't tell anyone. That's a good girl."

"You care for her," Amethyst said, smiling as the startled hobbit jumped.

"Well I've been riding her for days now…" he seemed sheepish about it, "don't you care for your horse?"

"Of course I do, but she is not mine, merely a companion free to come and go as she pleases. She is one of the Mearas."

"What's her name?"

"You know," she laughed, "I have yet to give her one."

"Then perhaps you should," he watched as the horse in question raised her head to watch them, "I'm sure she would like a name."

"How about Valo?" she asked after a few moments of running through names in her head.

"What does it mean? Is it Elvish?"

"No, it's not Elvish," she laughed, "it is short for Valorossa, meaning valiant. It is in Italian, one the many languages spoken where I am from, viene dice che sia la lingua dell'amore e cibo."

"I like that name," he nodded as to commit the name to memory, "I have no idea what you said, but this Itah-lee-anne sounds a lot like Elvish."

"It is said to be the language of love and food," she translated, "that's the rough translation anyway. I will confess it is a favourite of mine."

"I think I like the sound of this Itah-lee-ane, 'specially the part about food," he gave her a grin, "I should like to learn it, if of course you'd be willing to teach me. I understand if you wouldn't want to, I don't suppose it would very useful to learn a language no one speaks."

"Ciao," she cut in over his speech and she once again startled him, "come stai? It means 'hello, how are you?' Ciao is the typical greeting, the equivalent of saying hello."

"Sh-ow?" Bilbo responded unsurely.

"Ciao," she told him again more slowly.

"Ch-ow," he parroted and this time she nodded, "how do I say good morning and goodnight?"

"Buongiourno is good morning and buonanotte is goodnight," they went through the same pattern, sounding out the words until Bilbo got them correct. "Molto bene, very good, you will soon be fluent in Italian."

"Oh you give me too much praise," his ears slowly turned red he opened his mouth, no doubt to protest his language skills, but a shrill scream pierced the air. "What was that?"

"Orcs," Kili answered and Thorin immediately jerked into awareness.

"Orcs?" Bilbo asked confused.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there, the lowlands are crawling with them." Fili responded, trying not to laugh.

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet. No screams just lots of blood." Kili added fire to the fuel, the twin burst out laughing and Amethyst sighed as Bilbo looked away in fright and shuffled closer to the green eyes witch.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin sneered and he made his way past the twins, "you think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Clearly Thorin had unresolved issues with the ghastly species, something that went deeper than the typical loathing and disgust one feels for the orcs.

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." Balin told them with a sigh that spoke of old age and weariness that comes with experiencing too much. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs led by the vilest of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him: a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent…wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

Amethyst wondered if that's why his last name was Oakenshield, was it some title he had earned that day? She turned her attention to the would-be-king and found herself looking at a dwarf who had lost everything but still managed to cling to hope. He reminded her of Neville in an odd way, when he refused to give in to Voldemort and stood up to him even when there seemed to be no hope. Her respect for Thorin began to rise.

"But the pale orc?" Bilbo asked suddenly, startling Balin and Thorin from their memories, "what happened to him?"

"That filth slunk back to the hole whence he came. He died of his wounds long ago," Thorin hissed in a tone that brook no argument.

Amethyst however had her suspicions, namely the look that Balin and Gandalf shared, " _there is more to this isn't there? The pale orc still lives?_ " the Elvish tongue made the dwarves sneer in disgust but she could not be choosy. She had to know the answer without alerting Thorin to her suspicions.

" _I cannot say, but I have my doubts._ " Gandalf replied seriously, " _we must keep vigilant._ "

" _You think he will attack us?_ "

" _He would desire to finish what he started, so yes, I fear he will attack._ "

Suddenly their quest seemed a heck of a lot harder. As if a gold-hungry dragon wasn't enough.

The following day they made a path down the cliff and continued on their journey, it wasn't until the day after that Bilbo felt the first hurdle of travelling long distance. The heavens had opened on top of them and the rain poured in what seemed to be a never ending stream. It wasn't a fine rain that could easily be ignored, it was the thick droplets that soaked you to the bone and made everything they touched miserable.

"Here Mr. Gandalf," Dori called, "can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." Gandalf said in an annoyed tone. The tone that exasperated teachers gave to the first year muggleborns who expected to be taught tricks like how to pull a rabbit from a hat.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked in a curiously innocent fashion that had Amethyst smiling.

"What?" Gandalf snapped, the rain clearly bothering him as much as anyone else, if not more.

"Other wizards?"

Gandalf looked at Bilbo, put out for a moment, before delightedly telling him, "there are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names." Amethyst knew he was in his element, the Grey Wizard had a penchant for telling stories, particularly those that revolved around him and magic.

"And who is the fifth?"

Amethyst snorted at the thoughts fifth wizard, she had met the crazy man only in passing when he travelled to Lothlorien, but he had certainly left an impression.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great Wizard or is he...more like you?"

Gandalf looks slightly offended at Bilbo's innocent remark and it had Amethyst laughing until her tears mixed with the rain. "I'd say he's like a version of Gandalf. Only up to his eye balls in weed. Merlin that guy gives a whole new meaning to being high."

"I think he's a very great wizard in his own way," Gandalf inserted with a glare towards Amethyst who was too busy laughing to care. "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

The rain finally stopped but sleeping on the wet, muddy ground was no fun at all, though Gandalf and Amethyst were the exception to this. They used magic to warm themselves up and make the ground more comfortable, though the latter of the two did so more subtly. The following day was certainly a lot brighter and it lifted their spirits somewhat.

They arrived at an abandoned farm mid-afternoon and Thorin decided to make camp near it, but something was nagging at her. A feeling Gandalf shared as she noticed him trying to convince Thorin to make for Rivendell. Green eyes looked around the ruins of the farm, her eye brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what was wrong. Then it hit her. She and Gandalf had stopped here briefly on their journey to the Shire, a farmer lived there with his wife and son. She had played with the little boy, chasing him around the house and smiling at his childish squeals of laughter. She had tickled him by the front door and hadn't stopped until tears ran down his chubby cheeks. She had given him an enchanted stone that shone with colour to keep him safe from the dark he was afraid of.

A choked sob caught in her throat as she looked at the ground where the door had been, the stone lay there shifting lazily through the colours of the rainbow. Clearly it hadn't worked in terms of keeping the boy safe, but then it wasn't supposed to keep things out, nor was it supposed to protect him from real threats. She bent and picked the stone up, her fingers clenching around it as her eyes watered. The stone was to protect him from imaginary fears, a light against the shadows of the night. A hand settled on her shoulder and she found Gandalf peering at her concerned, she unclenched her hand and revealed the stone to him. His eyes shifted in the pain of knowing an innocent had died and he squeezed her shoulder in comfort.

"Come, I need some time away from the stubbornness of dwarves and willing ear to rant to," he told her softly, she nodded and pocketed the stone, she would find a necklace for the stone and wear it around her neck. The boy was gone from the world, but his memory wouldn't be forgotten. She left the farm and wandered with Gandalf, saying nothing as he ranted, the echo of childish laughter sounding in her head.

"You and I both know that you will find some way of leading the dwarves to Rivendell," she told him when he finally stopped ranting. Night had fallen and the nagging she had felt since setting eyes on the farm was steadily growing stronger, until it began pulling at her very being. "We should head back, I have a feeling that something is wrong."

"Not yet, I am still angry at Thorin's stubbornness and I do not wish to say something unwise," he sighed.

"You? Say something unwise? Why I never," she laughed at his playful glare and turned around, "I'm going to head back, come when you wish."

"I do believe you get more and more cheeky every day," Gandalf laughed.

"But you love me anyway," she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him childishly before disappearing back the way they had come.

She reached the camp after a little while and found it deserted and knew instantly that she should have listened to the warning her instincts had given her sooner. A glow of a campfire caught her eyes in the distance and looking at the ground she could see the overlapping footsteps of the dwarves, she followed the trail slowly. Her footsteps barely making a sound even as she stepped on leaves, it didn't take her long to reach the camp and it was clear to see what had happened. The dwarves were tied up in sacks, though some were currently being turned on a roasting spit above a fire. They were shouting and trying to get free, but the trolls that had captured them were either too stupid to understand or to hungry to be picky over what they ate.

Bilbo seemed to understand the situation greatly and as he stood, or rather hopped along in his sack, he began arguing with the Trolls about cooking dwarves. Amethyst was greatly impressed at his ability to think in an intense situation, not many could keep their cool let alone think of ways to play for time. She spied a rock that would give her a height advantage and, as Bilbo argued over seasoning, she moved silently over to it and began to climb it.

Trolls, she remembered Gandalf telling her, were stupid creatures of Morgoth's making. They were incredibly handy in a fight because they could take orders and their size gave them a brute strength not many could face up to. Good for a distraction and cannon fodder. In that respect they were much like the trolls she knew from her own world but Gandalf told her a major difference between them. When exposed to sunlight, the trolls returned to the stone from which they were created.

"He's got worms in his tubes!" she almost curled over with laughter when she heard Bilbo shout that, apparently the hobbit was running out of ideas to stall with. "In fact they're all infected with parasites. Terrible business. I wouldn't want to risk it. Very contagious are these worms."

A small groan slipped past her lips when the dwarves began to protest their innocence, declaring they weren't riddled with parasites. Clearly the dwarves weren't as smart as she had given them credit for, she unhooked her longbow from its strap on her back and slowly pulled an arrow from her quiver. Her green eyes rolled slightly as she heard the dwarves change their tune to agree with Bilbo after a swift kick and glare from Thorin.

"What would you have us all do then? Let 'em all go?" one of the trolls said, his accent reminded Amethyst strongly of the cockney accent.

"Well…" Bilbo said slowly in consideration.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? The little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret!?" Bilbo said appalled at being called such.

"Fools?" another troll asked in confusion.

Gandalf stepped up beside her, nodding at her as if he knew what she was going to do making her shake her head. He was far too like Dumbledore for his own good, all meddlesome and strangely intuitive. "The light will take you all," he shouted, drawing the attention of all below them.

"Who're they?" a troll asked.

"No idea," the second responded.

"Can we eat 'em too?" the third asked.

Dawn crept up behind them but it wasn't the dawn that turned them to stone, it was the arrow that Amethyst released. A whispered spell of sunlight fell from her lips and the camp was filled with the bright, warm light of the sun. When the light disappeared the trolls were stone, looks of astonishment clear on their faces. Gandalf laughed jovially as the dwarves cheered and Bilbo fell to his butt in relief.

"I had thought you'd never come," Bilbo told her as she untied the sack around him.

"I wouldn't have if not for the warning in my heart," she smiled as he stepped out of the sack, perfectly unharmed aside from the shock of what happened.

"I'm glad for your arrival all the same, it was frightening."

"But you didn't let your fear hinder you, out of all the experience the dwarves had, it was you who thought to play for time. It was only you who kept your cool."

"I-I suppose your right, blimey… imagine that," he laughed in shock, but the smile he gave her once he calmed down told Amethyst her words had done much for his confidence.

* * *

A/N: I will confess that last bit made me go aww, Bilbo is such a little darling and he is getting along with Amethyst rather well if I do say so myself.

So I just thought... I have no idea what to official pairing will be... so I would like to leave it open to you guys. Baring in mind that this story will extend into LOTR who do you want Amethyst paired with? Also should I include Legolas? I mean I included Azog so I should include Legolas right? Should he be paired with Amethyst? I mean that would tie in nicely with LOTR...

Leave me your thoughts on the matter in a review, I would greatly appreciate it.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So I'm back at university, yay, and this chapter is brought to you by boredom. Yay boredom.

The pairing seems to be leading towards Legolas/Amethyst, lots of people said it should be that, and honestly it would tie-in nicely with the LOTR story that will follow on from this one. I'm still open to other pairing ideas though, so keep suggesting them!

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Enjoy~

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"What are you?" Thorin asked, his whole posture tense with distrust and anger, "some witch sent to distract us from our quest?"

"I have magic yes," she responded carefully, knowing full well his question was a very loaded one and that she had the attention of everyone, "but I have not been sent to distract you from your quest. In fact my purpose on Middle Earth is simply to help."

"She is the Hope of Middle Earth Thorin," Gandalf put in sharply and the would-be-king drew in a sharp breath.

"You cannot mean…" he eyed Amethyst with a new light, a look of wonder and contemplation within his gaze.

"She is the child of prophecy," Gandalf nodded sagely, but Thorin was hardly listening. Instead he was recalling the words to a prophecy his father told him, a prophecy that had been passed down from father to son. It was known amongst all the races, though none could tell when the prophecy would come to pass. The fact that the one the prophecy spoke of was standing in front of him left him breathless.

"Kingdoms will rise…" he whispered part of the prophetic words and sudden clarity hit him. Amethyst had been brought to Middle Earth to help him, to return his kingdom to its former glory, to put to rest the evil of Smaug. The Dwarves had heard of this prophecy long ago and taken it to mean an assurance of their reign, for it was the Dwarven Kingdom of Erebor that was the most magnificent kingdom in Middle Earth. His grandfather had told him that the Hope of Middle Earth was not to be seen in for hi rule, but she will appear during Thorin's rule. Thror had told his grandson that the Hope would be Throin's.

His eyes began to take on a sheen of madness, a slight that had both Gandalf and Amethyst frowning, but Thorin didn't see. He was too focussed on this new development, on finding his hope. Of course it never occurred to him that the prophecy was speaking to Middle Earth as a whole, how could it when she had appeared at Bag End rather unexpectedly and joined them. He just knew she came for him, she was his hope. The key to his treasure.

"Uncle!" Kili shouted happily, bringing the would-be-king from his thoughts, "we've found the troll's hoard! Come have a look!"

Amethyst followed behind Thorin and Gandalf wearily, she had seen the look in Thorin's eyes and knew nothing good would come of it. Galadriel had warned her of this, of the prophecy that foretold her arrival and her deeds.

" _We have waited for you for a very long time child," Galadriel said, smiling brightly at the stunned girl. They were stood before the elf's mirror in the secret glade within the trees of Lorien._

" _What do you mean?"_

" _A very long time ago a prophecy was told," she laughed at Amethyst groan._

" _I really hate prophecies," she muttered much to the blonde haired elf's amusement._

" _They can be rather bothersome," she admitted, "but this one speaks words of caution as well as hope. Would you like to hear it?"_

" _I suppose I will have to."_

" _Hope shall appear as the world grows dark,_

 _Bringing new magic against many a foe,_

 _From another world she shall embark,_

 _From one quest to another her power will grow._

 _Kingdoms will rise under her sight,_

 _All will flourish with her tender care,_

 _But darkness will soon reach a new height,_

 _And under such strain she cannot tear._

 _For if she falls then hope turns to despair,_

 _To fall under the spell of the enemy,_

 _Good shall be gone so be aware,_

 _Friendship and love is her only remedy._

 _The hope of the world shall be cherished,_

 _For many enemies she will have slain,_

 _And the taint of evil will have perished_

 _To finally put to rest the evil domain."_

" _So…" Amethyst spoke after a very long pause, "I'm to defeat evil again? Brilliant. That's becoming the story of my life really," she sighed but her grin told Galadriel she wasn't really bothered by it. "I mean all Dark Lords are similar right? You've seen one you've seen 'em all. It'll get rather boring really quick."_

" _You are taking this news remarkably well," she responded, pouring water into her mirror, "you have a strong mind and will to be able to just accept things."_

" _My sensei taught me that we cannot change what is meant to be, only accept it and learn to take things as they come to us," she shrugged, "if I am faced with evil I will help destroy it. If I am to make kingdoms rise then I shall do so when the time comes. If I shall fall to evil then it is my bonds with others that will bring me back."_

" _Will you look?" Galadriel asked suddenly, motioning to the mirror, "will you see what the future holds for you and this world?"_

" _No I won't," she shook her head, "knowing what is to come doesn't change anything. Having such knowledge would only cause me more danger, I will remain ignorant of what is to come until it arrives." She nodded in farewell to the lady before leaving the glade._

Looking back she wondered if she should have looked in the mirror, if only to see what effect the prophecy would have on others. Knowledge was a dangerous thing indeed, especially in the hands of those who interpret the words wrongly. She could only hope that Thorin hadn't found meaning where there was none to find. She shook her head, if Galadriel was in front of her once more asking her if she would look she would still decline, it was a dangerous thing to know your own fate. She would take every day as it came.

She refused to enter the troll cave, the smell before she even got near it repulsed her enough. There was nothing she would find of interest in there anyway. She had her own things and that was enough. Bilbo shared the sentiment and was quick to duck out after the stench got to him, they sat on a small log waiting for the others to drift out.

"Do you think it will continue to be dangerous? The quest I mean… the trolls they…" words seem to escape him as he frowned looking down at his feet.

"When you think about what lays at the end of this quest, a dragon, I can safely say it will get more dangerous," she replied slowly, it would do neither of them any good if she lied and told him things would be fine.

"But Smaug hasn't been seen for years," Bilbo implored, "wouldn't he have died from starvation or dehydration?"

"What do you know about dragons?"

"Nothing really."

"Well where I'm from a dragon means many different things," she told him, using her Hermione voice, "those who aren't magical believe that dragons are creatures of myth. That they don't exist but are creatures of myth heralding great disaster. Virtually indestructible and even time cannot touch them. Though some cultures believe they are lucky, wise and bring good fortune. Sometimes they are intelligent, sometimes they are nought but animals, primal and instinctual. I have faced two dragons in my time. The first I managed to out fly, the second was a poor beast, tortured by its jailors; I escaped on its back and rode it for some time before departing."

"That is fascinating," Bilbo whispered happy to be obtaining such precious knowledge.

"But one thing is clear," she responded, "the dragons of my world are different here, but they are still creatures of magic. Whether good or bad doesn't matter, but Smaug is not to be underestimated. We need to be clever and crafty when dealing with him."

"Clever and crafty… right," Bilbo nodded unconfidently.

"Don't worry, there are many leagues left to travel before we see the mountain. Do not worry for the future, focus on the things that happen when they happen."

"For one so young, you're full of wisdom," Thorin's voice washed over them, startling them slightly.

"I may only be twenty one but I've seen more than my fair share of bad things," she said as Bilbo joined Gandalf at his call.

"From one quest to another," he nodded, though his mind was reeling from how young she actually was.

"Indeed, but I'd rather you not go comparing me to some prophecy," she responded tightly, "I'm a human being. Not some words."

"I apologise if offence was caused," he said a small frown appearing on his face, "to be the child of prophecy is a great honour."

"It sucks," she answered shortly, "it means I always have expectations to live up to. That I cannot be Amethyst, for I must constantly be the child of prophecy. I spent the first seventeen years of my life with a prophecy hanging over my head, I had thought I had left all of that behind but now I have another prophecy to live up to."

"Do not worry," he gave her a small smile, "I will make sure no one demands unreasonable things from you. None shall have your aid but me."

She frowned as she heard the undertone of possessiveness come from him and his eyes glittered dangerously. She decided to speak with Gandalf about it later and avoid Thorin as much as she could, though she could only do so much given that they were travelling together. She'd opt out on the whole thing but she had signed the contract and given her word, if she left then she would break the code she lived up to as well as dishonour herself and Isamu. She smiled politely and excused herself, finding herself between Fili and Kili. The two bickered back and forth in a never ending stream that she couldn't hope to be a part of, though it didn't stop her from smiling fondly at them.

"The lady has a beautiful smile wouldn't you agree Kili?" Fili asked, finally noticing Amethyst watching them.

"Aye, and beautiful eyes to match," Kili agreed with a nod and a smirk.

"Eyes like the finest gems I ever saw," Fili added, joining his brother with an identical smirk.

"Are you trying to make me blush?" Amethyst asked before laughing, "or perhaps this is your attempt at flirting? You guys need to work on that if it is, I've heard those thing all before."

"Ah my dearest lady Amethyst, my brother and I are experts at wooing the women folk," Kili told her with a dramatic wave of his arms.

"They swoon before us," Fili added, "they can't resist our seductions."

"But what those ladies don't tell you is," Amethyst grinned mischievously, "that they only pretend to swoon and fall for your non-existent charms because they feel sorry for you."

"She got you there lads," Bofur roared with laughter.

"You wound us, truly you do," they both pretended to fall as if struck by an arrow.

They continued to laugh and joke, Amethyst had taken to telling them of her Hogwarts days, which her three audience members listened to raptly. Fili and Kili decided Fred and George were the best thing since sliced bread. They shared a few stories before the arrival of Radagast the Brown interrupted them.

He had a great story to tell them.

The greenwood was sick, nothing good grew within its boundaries anymore and decay tainted the air. Worst of all were the spiders, huge and rapidly spawning amongst the sticky webs they created between the trees. Radagast told them they came from Dol Guldor, its very name set Amethyst on edge and she knew without a doubt the prophecy was coming true, that the world was growing dark with evil once more. A shadow of an ancient horror dwells within its hallowed halls, a necromancer, one that can summon the spirits of the dead.

Gandalf gave Radagast a puff on his pipe to settle his nerves as he finishes with the story, but the Brown wizard isn't done. He reaches inside his robes and pulls out a cloth bound object, an object which is hidden from Amethyst's view. But she didn't have to see it to feel its evil aura. Gandalf was clearly worried and she knew that a change had begun on the world and she was to once more take centre stage according to the prophecy. A howl breaks through her thoughts and she stood, her body coiled like a spring.

"Was that a wolf? Are there… Are there wolves out there?" he looked around him worried, his hand clenching on a blade Gandalf must have given him.

"No laddie," Bofur responded, "that wasn't a wolf."

A snarling growl came from the crag above them and a split second later a warg appeared, it went for them. It's teeth snapping and eyes a light with hunger and hatred. It didn't get far before Thorin killed it cleanly with his new Elven blade. Kili shot the next with an arrow but it Dwalin who dealt it the killing blow.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin hissed angrily, "an Orc pack won't be far behind."

"Orc pack," Bilbo whispered his eyes wide with fright, Amethyst made her way to him. The others were trained warriors, Bilbo wasn't so he was her primary concern.

"We need to move," she said loudly.

"Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?" Gandalf shouted angrily at Thorin.

"Gandalf!" Amethyst shouted gaining the wizards attention, "we are being hunted! There is no time for your anger. We need to run."

"We can't!" Ori called, "the ponies have bolted."

"I'll draw them off," Radagast stated but Gandalf shook his head.

"These are Gundabad Wargs," he looked frustrated, "they will out run you."

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits," Radagast grinned confidently, "I'd like to see them try."

It was a hiding game, Radagast had the attention of the wargs and the orcs riding them, but the Company still had to hide whenever they drew too near. Amethyst kept a tight hold of Bilbo, not wanting the hobbit to fall behind though he was huffing and panting. It was very stop and start, they hid behind whatever rock was closest and they all knew it was only a short matter of time before they were caught. They were hiding behind a particularly large rock when they heard sniffing and growling above them. Thorin motioned to Kili who got the idea, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, stepping from the shadow of the rock he drew, aimed and fired in one quick motion.

Amethyst drew her Dragon sword and, as the orc fell from the rock, she beheaded it in one sweeping motion. It was the warg that gave their position away, they were too slow to kill it and it gave a loud keening cry. Amethyst plunged the blade through, where she assumed, its heart was and silenced it once and for all but it was already too late. The hiding game was over and it was time to flee for their lives. Gandalf led them this time, though were too not even she could say, she was too focussed on those chasing them. She magically cleaned her sword and sheathed it, drawing her bow instead. They were surrounded on all sides with more wargs and riders closing in. She drew and arrow, nocked, aimed and fired quicker than a blink of an eye, a feat that earned her the respect of the Elves in Lorien, the arrow plunged into the forehead of the closest orc.

Thorin seeing her actions, orders Kili to do the same. Both archers drew their arrows and fired with a practised ease, but more enemies approached. Gandalf had disappeared and the dwarves took that to mean that he had abandoned them, but Amethyst knew better. Gandalf had a plan and she had to stall the enemy for long enough. At least that's what she hoped. She couldn't help the slight trepidation as she shot more wargs and orcs down and Gandalf still didn't appear. So it was with great relief that he popped his head up from a rock and shouted for them to follow him. She stored her bow on her back, unconcerned about her arrows as she knew they would return to her, she ran to the rock, jumping down into the hole carefully hidden behind it.

"You really know how to keep me on my toes don't you wizard?" she shook her head, "for a moment I thought you truly had abandoned us."

"But you kept faith and didn't reveal your magical powers to them," he told her with a fond smile, "you did well."

"Of course I did well, it was my life I was defending," she laughed but fell silent as others piled in, Gandalf counting them as they shot by him. They would have been trapped, if it hadn't been for the Elven horn that sounded outside there little hiding spot, the thundering of horses echoed around them. An orc fell into the hole, an elven arrow deep inside his back, Thorin sneered at the sight of the gleaming metal tip, his hatred for Elven kind surfacing once more. It was with sudden clarity that Amethyst realised what Gandalf had done, she met his twinkling eyes with her own mirthful ones, he raised his hand to press one finger to his lips. She nodded, she would their destination a secret but it was with great excitement that she turned and bounded down the path. She cared little if the dwarves would follow, Lorien was a beautiful place where the elves found homes within the tall branches of the trees. But Arwen had told her Rivendell was different. They had built structures around the trees that took advantage of the landscape and Amethyst was eager to see the home of Arwen's father.

She made it to the end of the path before the others caught up and what she saw took her breath away. No words could do the Valley of Imladris any justice so she wouldn't try, if she could compare it to anything in terms of beauty than it would be Hogwarts. Of course it lacked the magic she was familiar with, but it held magic none-the-less, the waterfall fell almost silently, the river that ran around its border was swift and deadly to any enemy. Yet if any friend were to cross it, it would do no harm. There was a wholeness to the air, as if just by breathing you were safe and well. Amethyst couldn't help but smirk as a stray thought made itself known. The dwarves would hate it.

* * *

A/N: Who Amethyst had a malicious side, loving Rivendell more because the dwarves would hate it, oh well. So the plot moves forwards and Amethyst's real purpose in Middle-Earth has become known. Can you tell which parts of the prophecy belong to hobbit world and which belong to LOTR world? Do you have an idea as to why Thorin has become interested in her now? It get explained by Gandalf in the next chapter so don't worry if you don't.

Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Quite a bit of Elvish in this one... I'm loving this story more and more. Though I think that's because Amethyst is pretty well rounded and I love her interactions with characters.

Disclaimer: I currently own a tuna and cucumber sandwich (not for much longer though).

Enjoy~

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She was almost giddy as she skipped over the bridge and onto what she assumed was the entrance of the valley. Gandalf joined her a few moments later, looking peeved, no doubt the revelation of the home of Lord Elrond had quite a different effect on the others. Thorin most of all and it seemed Gandalf got the brunt of the would-be-king's ire. Still nothing could dampen her mood. She was rather looking forward to meeting Arwen's father and brothers. A dark haired elf descended the steps in front of them.

"Mithrandir." He said by way of greeting.

"Ah Lindir!" Gandalf said as he recognised the elf.

 _So there are other dark haired elves beside Arwen and her family. Perhaps they segregate themselves by hair colour. The blondes go to Lorien, dark haired elves go to Imladris and ginger elves go to Mirkwood._ She thought as Gandalf spoke with Lindir, she grinned and tried desperately to contain her laughter at her thoughts. She was drawn from her thoughts by the sound of a familiar horn, the same horn she heard not long ago, the dwarves drew close together and she found herself being pulled back and into the centre with Bilbo as they gripped there weapons. She would have rolled her eyes and laughed outright had it not been for the look Gandalf gave her. It was as though the dwarves thought she needed defending, like she was some maiden as green as the day she was born.

A dozen horses cantered up the bridge and circled the Company, the dwarves only tensed further still and didn't relax even when the elves stopped moving. Amethyst saw a blond haired elf amidst the brunettes and black haired elves, she almost sighed in disappointment as she realised her theory had been disproved. An elf dismounted from his horse, which was led away the others on horseback soon following behind, she could see a hint of Arwen in his eyes and knew this must be her father.

"Gandalf," he said approaching the wizard with a happy smile, Gandalf bowed respectfully.

"Lord Elrond, Mellonnen! Mo evínedh?" Gandalf responded in kind.

It took a moment for Amethyst to translate the words, she was okay speaking the Elven tongue, but when others spoke it she had to really listen to the words. He was asking where Elrond had been.

"Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui."

The response was lost on Amethyst who only managed to catch enough to know it was Elrond and his party that slew the orcs. She needed to brush up on her Elvish listening skills, if of course Lord Elrond would let her. She was proved right when Elrond held up an orc sword and spoke accusingly of how it strange they came so close to the borders of Rivendell. It was the only time Amethyst had seen Gandalf look sheepish and guilty, it made her smile.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," Elrond said with the gracious look every host had, but Thorin would not return the polite gesture.

"I do not believe we have met," he responded disinterestedly with more than a little disdain in his tone.

"You have your grandfather's bearing," Elrond told him, ignoring the slight against him as though he'd been expecting it, "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed," Thorin sneered, "he made no mention of you."

"Oh would it kill you to have the decency to be polite, Lord Elrond has done nothing to earn your anger," Amethyst pushed forwards, her hands on her hips, "if everyone were to judge an entire race on the acts of but a few then the world would be full of hate. Hell if I were to go by that role then I would hate my own people. The world would be a nicer place to live in if we stopped judging everyone for acts of individuals." She rolled her eyes at the stunned silence that met her chastisement of the would-be-king, she turned to Elrond and gave him a beautiful smile, "Mae l'ovannen hir vuin Elrond, im Amethyst."

"Mae l'ovannen hiril vuin Amethyst, my daughter has written singing your praises," he smiled before bowing deeply, "it is an honour to meet the child of prophecy. Gi nathlam hí. If you would like I can have Lindir escort you to the female bathing house, I assume you would like to bathe before eating?"

"I would be most grateful for that," she nodded her head.

"She's not going anywhere," Thorin put in, his hand wrapping around Amethyst's wrist preventing her from leaving. The distrust was clear in his eyes. "She is to be escorted with one of the Company at all times."

"Oh so who do you suggest comes with me to bathe?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, watching with amusement as the dwarves stuttered and blushed.

"I'll go," Kili said with a somewhat lecherous grin, "it would be my honour to watch over the lass while she bathes."

"I'll pass," she rolled her eyes and pulled her wrist out of Thorin's grasp.

"I assure you Lindir won't be stepping foot inside the bathing house, he will wait for Amethyst outside," Elrond told him, equally amused.

"There," Amethyst said with a smile, "you no longer have to fear for my virtue."

She was still laughing even as Lindir escorted her away, the dark haired elf was much like the elves in Lothlorien, he carried himself with an arrogance only a great age brought. He gave her an indulging smile, the closest thing to laughter elves seemed to possess.

"The young dwarf lord seems awfully possessive of you," he told her with a grin, "I understand why if you are the child of prophecy, and then there is your beauty."

"Excuse me?" she blinked not expecting the compliment.

"Surely you have noticed?" he seemed surprised, "all Elves are gifted with an ethereal light, an unearthly beauty, it is the same with you. Though perhaps not in the same way. There is an unearthly quality about you, but the light all Elves possess is not within you, still you are far more beautiful than any mortal of Middle Earth. It is no wonder he wishes for your favour."

"I think you need your eyes checking, Thorin isn't interested in me like that, nor do I wish him to be," she shook her head even as Lindir let out a short laugh.

"Then how do you explain his unwillingness to let you disappear from his sight?"

"Simple, he hates Elves."

Lindir left it at that for they had arrived at the bath house, the only house she had seen with a door she noted with surprise. Though she couldn't say it wasn't what she was expecting, it was the same in Lothlorien, except the bath house was surrounded by thick trees a little off the path. But the sleeping talons had been open to all, except the guest talons which had doors and where she called home. She didn't like the thoughts of others watching her sleep.

"There will more than likely be elf-maids inside," he told her, "I apologise in advance."

She frowned at the apology wondering why he had apologised, it was only when the two elf-maids that inhabited the waters spotted her that she understood. She only wanted a quick soak and to wash her hair, wanting to get back to the Company and hopefully curb their rudeness. But Elwin and Theä had other ideas.

"Your hair is so beautiful," Elwin cooed as she washed it, ignoring Amethyst's refusal at her request, "tis the colour of midnight and so luscious now that I have washed it. This is why women folk shouldn't travel," apparently the elven women here were far more concerned about their appearance. Her hair that had been an untameable rat's nest now fell in ringlets about her back. She had to commend Elwin for her skills, not even magic had been able to tame her hair.

"You can borrow one of my dresses for your stay here," Theä told her happily, "I have a green one that matches the emeralds in your eyes." She handed Amethyst a jar that smelled of vanilla and apricot, "use this for your body."

Amethyst had never really been into the whole communal bathing, getting naked with other women and gossiping, but having remained in Lorien for a while she had gotten used to sharing her baths. Though they weren't quite as hands on as these two were. She rubbed the lotion into her body without complaint and was once more cooed over for how smooth and fair her skin was.

"Perhaps I was wrong in my earlier assessment of your beauty," Lindir told her as she stepped from the bath house in an emerald green dress that accentuated her curves. "You do look very much like an elf-maid now."

"Shut up," she muttered, blushing, she hadn't dressed like a woman in years. Preferring trousers and shirts to dresses and heels. Her weapons and clothes had been left in the tender care of Theä and Elwin, who assured her they would place them in her rooms for her. "I feel naked."

"I assure you that you aren't," he laughed good naturedly and escorted her to the dining area.

The dwarves all stared at her as she entered with Linder, their mouths open and in various states of eating, some had been chewing and others had food half raised to their mouths. It made for a comical scene at least.

"Blimey," Fili said, blinking in rapid succession, "you look like a proper lady."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" she asked unsure.

"Oh it's definitely a compliment," Kili put in, his eyes running up and down her form appreciatively, "Who knew underneath all those weapons and male clothes lay a stunning lady?"

"Again I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not," she rolled her eyes before allowing Lindir to lead her to her seat. She was to sit with Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin, the latter of whom stood to pull out her chair before Lindir could. A fact that had Lindir raising his eyebrow before sending an amused knowing smirk to Amethyst who huffed before thanking Thorin. Slowly she began to eat the food on her plate, listening as Elrond examined the elven blades found in the troll cave. Glamdring and Orcrist, powerful names for strong swords, she wondered how they would be wielded in the future with their new masters.

"And your swords Lady Amethyst? I noticed they were very different to those of Middle Earth, would you mind telling me about them?"

She told him what she had told Thorin, about the Katana and the process of making them, how they were more suited to her form than a longsword or a broadsword. But she also told him of the island and fires in which they were formed, the resting place of the gods.

"Your sword are truly magnificent blades then, to be blessed by the gods," he nodded and smiled, "what are their names?" he asked curiously.

"Fènghuáng and Lóng," she responded with ease, naming them for the symbols carved into their blades. "In Westron they would translate to Phoenix and Dragon, their original language is Chinese."

"Why would you name your blade after a dragon?" Thorin sneered angrily, "they are hateful creatures who cannot see beyond their own desire."

"Oh then it seems you and dragons share something in common, you are rather hateful are you not?" she asked with narrowed eyes, the naming of a blade was sacred and it was her magic who named them, to mock her magic's choice was a great insult.

"And you are a woman who should not even wield a sword," he stood from the table his voice echoing loudly, "let alone name one." He turned on his heel and left the room.

"What a child," she muttered under her breath though judging by Elrond's smile he had heard her loud and clear, "in Chinese culture the dragon and phoenix are creatures of yin and yang."

"Yin and yang? What is this?" Gandalf asked.

"Could I have some parchment and a quill?" she asked and waited until it was placed in front of her before drawing the universal black and white symbol of yin and yang, she passed it over to Gandalf, "that is the symbol for yin and yang. I suppose in one word it would be balance, the ultimate state of equilibrium."

"A balance between good and bad," Elrond responded, understanding instantly.

"Yes, but it's more than that," she paused, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip as she thought of how to continue, "yin and yang is present in the world as a whole but each person possesses it too. Once you have achieved that equilibrium within your own body then you can transcend the limitations of the body and become so much more. Myself for example, I have reached the state of yin and yang through my training with my sensei, therefore the way I perceive the world around me is different to everyone else. I am just as in tune with my body as I am to my surroundings and nature. It is the ultimate state for any warrior."

"All these foreign words, you really are from another world," he seemed in awe and she swallowed thickly under such weight. "I'd be interested in hearing of these different places," he gave the smile Hermione had whenever she wanted to learn. "and of course these blades, I do wish to see them in their entirety. I've never witnessed such things in my long life."

"I'd be honoured to tell you all I know, though I fear there is a lot, my sensei liked to travel and we've been across many oceans and lived in many different places," she smiled fondly. She has witnessed the birth of a phoenix in the forests of Inutoku to the death of the griffin in the tribal island of Hismatina.

"I have time my child," Elrond told her wisely.

She had promised to tell Lord Elrond all she knew and in exchange she was welcome in Imladris, and the library, anytime. Imladris was a beautiful place, surpassing Hogwarts even though the castle would forever be in her heart, she stood on a balcony that overlooked the waterfall, the moon casting its silvery glow and making the water seem almost crystalline. Her arms rested on the railings as she contemplated the sight before her, time seemed to stop in Rivendell though that might be due to the agelessness of the elves. She smiled down into the valley before her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I apologise," the voice didn't startle her so much as surprise her, she turned to see Thorin clearing his throat awkwardly. "My behaviour since I found out who you were has been less than pleasant, I wish to make amends. I seek your forgiveness."

"My forgiveness?" she pondered out loud, smiling after a moment's pause, "there is nothing to forgive. Honestly I'm quite used to it. I'm just tired of being forced to live a certain way, I never seem to get a choice. The first prophecy cost me a lot, my parents were murdered for it when I was a baby, my godfather when I was fifteen, so many more during the Battle. I just… Prophecies leave disaster in their wake and I can't help but wonder what it's going to cost me this time. I'm supposed to help defeat this evil power but what if I can't, what if the cost is too great? I just want to be normal. I want to be Amethyst, not the child of prophecy, just plain old Amethyst."

"I cannot speak for prophecies," he began cautiously, moving to join her against the railing, "but I can speak towards a great destiny. To overcoming darkness for is that not what I am trying to do? I wonder every waking moment if I am doing the right thing, whether I am risking the lives of my companions for naught. But then I know that with them by my side I am made stronger for it. I cannot tell you what to do, nor can I tell you what is to come, I can only tell you this; make friends, loyal friends, and when you fall they will be there to lift you from the ground."

"Well look at this," she said softly, "who would have thought Thorin Oakenshield had a way with words?"

"I can give good advice, when the need arises," he gave her an amused grin.

"You'll make a great king, of that I have no doubt," she told him, smiling.

"With you by my side I do not doubt it," he told with a knowing smirk, he turned slowly and walked away, leaving her to ponder his words. She frowned after him, not liking the way he phrased it at all.

"Don't mind the lad," Balin sighed as he stepped from a hidden alcove, "there is history between him and the prophecy, it will take some time before he stops thinking of you the way he does."

"What do you mean?" she asked the kindly dwarf.

"As you know, your arrival was foretold many a year ago," she nodded her head and Balin continued, "well when Thorin was born, his grandfather became certain that the child of prophecy would be brought into this world in Thorin's time. So he had Thorin memorise the prophecy, learn it by heart, the moment he could talk, but Thror had begun to let the gold sickness affect him, he began telling Thorin the child of prophecy would belong to him. That the child would be Thorin's bride and bring peace under the mountain, that all of Middle Earth will bow down to the King Under the Mountain. For years Thorin was raised to believe you would be his, our time in exile had lessened the memories, but you came right before our quest began. It is hard to overcome what he has been told for so long."

"I am not his," she said sternly, "I will never be his, not if all he sees me for is the shortcut to a powerful kingdom."

"I know lass, I know," Balin sighed and shook his head, "in time Thorin will see it too."

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A/N: I figured it would be better to have Balin explain Thorin's behaviour, do you like the little twist I created? His behaviour is down to gold sickness, but not from Thorin, from his grandfather.

Also, the reason Amethyst says Mae l'ovannen to Elrond instead of the more well known Mae G'ovannen, is purely down to formal/informal usage, she's never met Elrond before so is formal, whereas if she knew him she'd be more inclined to use the G'ovannen informal usage.

Next chapter you get Elladan and Elrohir, as well as a small insight into Thorin's thoughts. I've already written it and am so tempted to post it along with this one. But I won't. I shall restrain myself.

Please Review.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Oh deary me... I feel like I've been slacking in my writing, honestly I wrote this chapter ages ago, and have written up to chapter ten of this story, I just havent written any new chapters. For any of my stories. Though I have had new story ideas.

Disclaimer: I do not own a thing.

Enjoy~

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She loved the library, it was very Hermione of her to choose the library out of all of the places in Rivendell, but it was beautiful. The shelves had been made from the whitest wood she had ever seen and beautifully carved, the books bound by horse hair, heavy and fragile. The seat she often chose was a window seat, nestled away in the corner of the library and overlooking the main courtyard. It was her little haven and only Gandalf or Elrond disturbed her there. The latter turned out to be a great conversationalist, they traded war stories and healing tips. She told him of the stars of home and in return he told her of Elbereth, the Star-Queen. Elrond was fascinated by the technology of her world, and mused on why her magic wasn't compatible with it.

She smiled as she turned a page of the book she was reading – medical herbs of Middle-Earth she found the Athelas plant a rather useful tool to have – it was written in Elvish and as such was a slow read. _Perhaps I should ask Elrond for some before we leave,_ she thought, turning the page and moving on to the section of curing fevers.

"Oh, so this how the friend of our sister spends her day?"

"To think Arwen painted such a pretty picture about our dear world traveller."

"Tis a shame really… to think Arwen lied to us…"

"What is this world coming to brother?"

"I've no idea brother." They both sighed overly dramatically. Elladan picked up her feet, sitting on the bench before draping them over his lap, his brother Elrohir stood to her side, peering over her shoulder at the book.

"Elladan, Elrohir, it's a pleasure to meet you both. Arwen sang your praises." She told them, not bothering to look up from her book as she continued to read.

" _Come now fair lady, put the book away lest you hurt our feelings."_

" _We've wished to play with you since father told us of your arrival."_

"Play with me how?" she asked wearily, finally looking up from her book. The brothers were handsome, dark hair and dark eyes with sculpted features. Their eyes held mischief but beneath that there was a sadness, a terrible sadness paired with an unquenchable anger. She shivered and hoped she would never be on the receiving end of that anger.

"Well in one of her many letters, Arwen wrote about how you turned a certain Marchwarden's hair bright pink."

"So we got to thinking about how now would be a perfect opportunity for some mischief."

"How is now a perfect opportunity?" she asked, smiling at the memory of the enraged Haldir with bright pink hair demanding retribution for the disgrace she had caused him.

"There are thirteen dwarves present."

"And my brother and I feel as though they could do with some lightening up."

"Particularly their leader."

"In case you hadn't noticed," she began with an eyebrow raised, "I am to travel with them for the foreseeable future. It isn't really wise for me to antagonise them."

"So you're not going to help us?"

"That is a disappointment."

"Now I didn't say that," she leant forwards a smirk on her face, "I feel it would be remiss of me to not give the dwarves, as you say, a good dose of lightening up."

"We knew you wouldn't disappoint us." Elladan smirked, while Elrohir gave her a positively sinful smile.

The following day the trio, or what would later go down in history as The Troublesome Trio, plotted their schemes. It took a few days for it to be pulled off, for what they wanted Amethyst needed to brew a potion for, and she needed to work out what to substitute for what. Naturally some of the ingredients found in her home differed here, but she was nothing if not adaptable. The twins procured the items she needed and, in a secret passageway, she brewed the potion required. Feeling nostalgic she told the twins of the Polyjuice Potion they brewed in her second year and of Hermione's rather unfortunate accident, though she couldn't say spending the afternoon looking like Pansy Parkinson was a stroll in the park either. They stole some pots from the kitchen and, when the potion was done, poured to solution into them and enchanted them to look just like the ones used in the bath house. The twins placed them in the male bath house just before the dwarves entered and now all they had to do was wait. When all thirteen dwarves, Amethyst had told Bilbo of the plan not wanting to prank her friend, left the bath house they smelled like a pretty elf maid and looked the part too.

The potion was a mild transfiguration that turned the recipient into what the maker wanted, it only lasted a few short hours. One of Fred and George's more ingenious potions.

The dwarves were beside themselves trying to figure out what had been done to them, though Fili and Kili were the only ones to take it in their stride. Making some rather lewd remarks about their newly acquired breasts. The Troublesome Trio were beside themselves with laughter and quickly had to leave lest they give themselves away.

"I saw what you did," Bilbo told them that night, a smile on his face though he was twitching nervously, "I'm glad it wore off though, I couldn't look at them for more than a moment without laughing."

"Of course," she responded, "I'd never make anything too permanent."

"Though we wanted to make the change permanent," Elrohir said cheerfully.

"You! You did this!? I should have known this was the doing of the elves," Thorin's angry voice washed over them, he was stood at the end of the hallway with Dwalin, though he was soon marching down it. "And you!" he pointed angrily at Amethyst, "how could you do this? And you Halfling? You knew of this and did nothing? How dare you turn on the Company and side with the _elves_?"

"It was just a harmless prank," she defended, taking a step back at the force of his anger.

"Leave her alone dwarf," Elladan sneered, both him and his brother stepping protectively in front of Amethyst and Bilbo.

"Stay out of this _elf,_ " Dwalin sneered, "why don't you and your brother go shag those trees you're so fond off."

"Hey now, there's no need-" she began only to be cut off by Elrohir.

"Go crawl back to the mountain you spawned from."

Thus began the heated slinging match of words in their own language, not able to understand Khuzdul meant Amethyst was only privy to half the conversation. But she knew enough to know they weren't discussing their favourite colours.

"Your mother was a whore," Thorin finally snapped at the two in the common tongue.

It was not Elladan or Elrohir that responded to the insult, for they had gone stiff with a righteous fury, it was Amethyst. She stepped forwards, her hand raised and slapped the stubborn dwarf across the face. "That was too far Thorin," she said quietly for she knew what happened to their mother, "no matter what you are arguing about you never bring others into it like that. _Never_. Apologise to them."

"Once again you side with the elves," he said quietly, sneering at her.

"Don't Amethyst," Elladan said, holding onto her wrist when she opened her mouth to speak, "the dwarf will not apologise so leave it." He dropped her wrist, gave her a pained smile, and left with his brother, leaving behind an awkward silence.

"You saw your grandfather beheaded by Azog," she said finally, her eyes downcast, "you know the evil of Orcs. Their mother was captured by orcs, tortured and raped by them, the twins were the ones to find her. Lord Elrond healed her body but her mind was broken, she sailed west and left them behind… it was just a bit of harmless fun Thorin. That's all." She turned and began walking down the hallway, the same way the twins had gone, but when she reached the end she turned back around. It was only Bilbo that saw the disappointment and tears in her eyes. "You are a spiteful dwarf Thorin Oakenshield, you care little for anything else beyond your kin, and because of that I fear what kind of king you will be. They say greatness and madness are two sides of the same coin. Your coin is spinning Thorin and only you can determine which way it will land."

Thorin later apologised to the twins, begrudgingly as it was, for he realised Amethyst was right his comment was spiteful and unnecessary. If he was ever going to be a good king he needed to be less petty and pick his battles wisely, arguing with the twins over a stupid prank was not wise even if they were of the race he so despised. Though Dwalin joked he only did it to please Amethyst and perhaps he did, not that any could blame him, she was beautiful inside and out enough to make any male of any race fall over themselves to please her.

But she wasn't vain or materialistic.

Perhaps that was why his grandfather's words came back to him, a memory of standing before the piles of gold and listening to Thror tell him of the Hope of Middle Earth. _"She will come to you Thorin, when you need her most, she will come. Her beauty and soul worth far more than any treasure here, even that of the Arkenstone, and she will be yours. She will bring Middle Earth into a new age; the Age of Dwarves. Your children shall be beautiful and powerful, none shall dare to mock them, not even Thranduil. She is yours Thorin. Yours._ " Thror's words had haunted him for a long time and true to his words, she appeared before the most important quest in his life, and because of that he believed in the rest of his grandfather's words. That she will be his queen.

But he was slowly beginning to realise that Thror's words were wrong. Amethyst was from a world where women were independent, able to do things for themselves and even rise above men, as unthinkable as that was. She would not bow to his will so easily, not if she thought he was being unreasonable, her knowledge and way of living was far beyond that of a dwarf. She walked in sunlight and starlight and he walked in the shadows of a mountain. With a growing dread he realised why he was so angry with the thoughts of her being around the twins. She was comfortable with them because they were like her. Elves allowed their females the freedom to choose what they want, their knowledge in all things was vast and they even had some form of magic.

Amethyst might not end up being his queen but he would be damned before he saw her wed to a pointy eared ponce.

She stood before a painting, the artwork of the elves spoke a thousand words that Shakespeare would envy, but this particular piece called to her. A siren amidst splendid beauties. She felt a sense of recognition and it grew the more she stared at it. A dark and menacing figure stood, looming over a man – a human, she noted with surprise – a gold band glowed ominously around the finger of the dark figure. The more she stared the more it seemed to come to life, sounds of swords clashing and screams of death, a horrible hissing – a guttural version of the Common Tongue, as though the one speaking wasn't used to such a language. Smoke filled her nostrils and she felt hot, ash fell from the sky.

"Tis a depiction of the War of the Last Alliance, the moment Isildur cut the Ring from the Dark Lord Sauron's finger."

The words startled her from her vision and turned to face her companion and had to blink to clear the image before her. Her magic seemed to glow under the light of the elf that had approached. Her mind rapidly tried to think of something to say, but it could only compare the light before her to the sun. Even that did the elf no justice. His aura spoke only of goodness and he was _old_ , though he looked young, as all elves did, but there was a lightness in his eyes. He cared for all life, he appreciated life in a way elves didn't. They took for granted their immortality. With a startling realisation she knew this elf had experienced death.

"The day Sauron was defeated was a joyous occasion," he continued on, as though he didn't notice her dumbfounded expression. "Ridding the world of such malicious evil once and for all." He smiled down at her before jumping over the railing that separated them, he landed gracefully.

"Stairs too mainstream for you?" she found herself asked sardonically, her eyebrow raised and light smirk on her face.

"Life is too short for such distractions as _steps_ ," he responded airily, "I say we should take risks, enjoy life to the fullest. _Jump_."

"That's a grand philosophy to live by, though I would never expect it to come from an elf," Amethyst peered at him closely. "But then I'd expect it from one who knows death."

"Perceptive little human aren't you? Yes, I have seen death and returned from the Halls of Mandos, but then, so have you." His smile seemed to widen, finding her to be a curious entity and Glorfindel was nothing if not a curious being.

"I'm afraid I didn't see Mandos, nor enter his Halls, though I did die."

"Then how did you return? If not by the will of gods?"

"I caught a train," she laughed knowing full well that her companion would not be able to understand the amusement. A glint of painted gold caught her eyes and she instantly sobered up. "Sauron is not dead," she had no idea what possessed her to say it, but as soon as she spoke the words she knew them to be true. "He has only been biding his time," _like Voldemort had done. Dark Lords can be patient when it comes to world domination._

"You are correct… but then I'd expect nothing less from the Hope of Prophecy."

"I prefer to be called Amethyst," she told him with a grimace.

"As you wish," he nodded his head towards her, "I am Glorfindel."

"How did you know Sauron had not been completely defeated?" she asked him curiously, her head tilting to the side – a habit she had when curious.

"The Ring," Glorfindel told her simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Come, let us leave this conversation of Dark Lords behind and speak of happier things."

"Like what?"

"I propose we discuss how it was exactly that you managed to change the gender of our dwarven company?" The glint in his eyes, the one that every prankster sees and acknowledges, had her revealing how. The Troublesome Trio had gained an honorary member.

In Amethyst's opinion their stay in Imladris was a nice break from thinking about the dragon at the end of their quest. But as with all good things it must come to an end. Gandalf had managed to persuade Thorin to let Elrond take a look at the map.

They stood around a crystalline dais behind the waterfall, waiting for the moon to appear from behind the clouds, Elrond stood before the dais the map spread across it. As the moon slowly peeked its pale face from the clouds ancient runes become visible on the map, and Elrond translated them out loud. "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

This of course led to Elrond discovering their true purpose in reclaiming Erebor, he wasn't happy that much was clear. Amethyst could empathise with him, she knew how dangerous dragons were and with the evil that was beginning to stir it became even more so. Thorin would never turn back though, the only thing they could do was help. It was Gandalf that had to answer for the quest in the Council, Amethyst knew, just as she knew when Galadriel stepped into Rivendell. The Lady of Light always held a special aura around her, an aura Amethyst could feel from a mile away.

It was Gandalf who told her and Thorin of the plan, he would attend this council and they would leave. Amethyst would cloak them in her magic to prevent their detection. It would be easy, but no one must know, and it grieved to leave without saying goodbye to Elrond, his sons and Glorfindel. She could only hope they'd understand. Gandalf would join them once he had finished with the Council. They packed that night, and by morning they were leaving the valley behind.

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A/N: I feel like this was a filler chapter... ... I liked writing Glorfindel though, and of course Elladan and Elrohir.

I will post the next chapter soon, it's a rather interesting one that features a bored Amethyst making friends with a tree and a bird.

I've also been contemplating writing a Game of Thrones story featuring a femharry... what do you think of that? Should I?

Please Review.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Update time! So I've been working away on my dissertation, a ten thousand word opening of my novel, like a good little worker bee but then I realised I haven't updated in a while, so I looked through my folder at what I'd written for my stories, and decided to update with the chapters I've already completed. Yay!

I love this chapter... it amuses me.

Enjoy~

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"It'll be alright, you will see it again," she told Bilbo who was looking longingly at the House of Elrond. She gave his shoulder a squeeze, "when this is done we can come back together yeah?"

"I would like that very much," he told her, his eyes downcast and clearly becoming homesick once more.

Going by foot was a long journey, especially as most of it was uphill and by the end of each day they were all spread out along their path, some more weary than others. It was Bilbo that took it hardest, all the walking again so soon after receiving such luxuries at Rivendell, he was always quick to fall asleep at nights. Thorin pushed them hard, even Amethyst was beginning to tire, but never once did anyone complain. They had a time limit now, and needed to reach the mountain by the end of Durin's Day otherwise it would be for naught and they would have to wait another year, something Thorin could not afford.

They had reached the Misty Mountains when the bad weather began, rain pelted them from all sides, stinging like a thousand tiny knives. It did not let up once. The path was dangerous enough without the rain, narrow and crumbling in places they had to move slowly for fear of plunging to their deaths. They sought out shelter, but the thunderstorm only hindered their searching, and Amethyst knew they would be hard pushed to find shelter before the rain ended. What she wasn't expecting was the thunderstorm to turn into a battle, a giant boulder crashed above their heads, raining rocks down upon them. That was when they saw it, a stone giant.

"Well bless me," Bofur called out in surprise, "the legends are true. Giants! Stone giants!"

They could only watch in shock and horror as the battle between the giants waged on and then things got inevitably worse. They rushed onwards on the path only to realise that they were resting on the knees of a third giant. Amethyst and half of the Company quickly jumped to the safety of the inanimate part of the mountain pass, but the others weren't so lucky and when the giant they were standing upon was injured and fell towards the mountain, they could only watch. She heard Fili scream for his brother, as did Thorin for his nephew, both fearing the worse. But when the giant tumbled down the chasm the remaining members were unharmed. Except one little hobbit.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur asked looking around, "where's our hobbit?"

Bilbo was hanging onto the face of the cliff, clinging for dear life and as they tried to rescue him he slipped a few feet. Out of the range of the dwarves he could only cling on. Amethyst lowered herself over the edge, carefully reaching Bilbo's level and grabbing him, she pushed him up into Thorin's waiting hands.

"Grab my hand," Thorin called to her after Bilbo had safely gotten back onto the path. She tried, she really did, but the rocks were slippery and rain hammered down on her and as she lifted herself up reaching for Thorin's hand her grip on the rocks loosened and she found herself falling down. Thorin shouted her name, as did the rest of the Company, but she could not hear them for wind was too loud in her ears, instead she saw their panicked faces.

She didn't fully understand why they worried, she was magical and her magic protected her, but then she reasoned that they had never really seen magic before. She smiled as best she could, gathered her magic and disappeared with a loud crack.

"I thought apparition relied on going to somewhere you've been before, a clear destination," she found herself mumbling. She expected to arrive in Lothlorien or Rivendell, for that is what she thought of, but her magic clearly had other ideas and dumped her in the middle of nowhere. Her only company was a lot of trees behind her, an open field in front of her and a raven. She named it Steve. She was hesitant to leave the place where her magic brought her, she must be needed here, so it was for that reason that she contented herself to sit at the base of an oak tree with yellowing leaves. She later named the tree Creeker, for the creaking sound it made in the breeze.

"I've been thinking ole Stevie buddy," she sighed, watching the sun make its path across the sky, "I know, I know, thinking is always dangerous. You don't need to tell me that. But seriously," she turned to the raven, "do you think I would look good with green hair? Not that in your face green, or Merlin forbid Slytherin green. Not baby poop green either. But a dark green? A few shades darker than my eyes?"

 _Tweet. Twitter. Chirp._

"Yeah you're right," she sighed, "what do you think Creeker? Maybe Silver? Go half Slytherin."

 _Groan. Creak. Whoosh._

"Yeah you're definitely right," she nodded, "far too Targaryen. Though I suppose being the blood of the dragon wouldn't be so bad, considering what's in the mountain. I can be all Valar Morghulis and bad ass High Valyrian, because let's face it, everything sounds better in a made up language."

 _Twitter. Tweet._

"What do you mean Tyrion is far better than Daenerys?" she huffed and then seemed to rethink her decision, "okay so Tyrion rules. But Dany has dragons and whenever anyone bugs her all she has to do is feed them to her dragons. Dracarys."

 _Croak. Creek. Swish._

"Yeah I know I can wield magic firepower too," she huffed again and laid down, "you guys don't half know how to ruin a girl's fun. Honestly Martin is a really good writer. I miss fiction. Here it's all history and _useful_ things written down, now don't get me wrong Steve, Creeker, I love those books but a good fiction book always hits the spot. As well as a nice brew. Can't beat a nice warm cuppa… two teaspoons of sugar…" her eyes began to close, slowly as though they did not want to, "… and milk… always has to have milk. The proper English brew…"

She awoke lazily and very reluctantly, feeling a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time she snuggled further into the furry blanket. A small childish giggle escaping her when the blanket moved, the furriness tickling her nose. "Dun move blankie," she mumbled, "it tickles." She wasn't proud to say it took her a lot longer than it should have for her click that something was wrong. She bolted upright and stared in an awed horror at the sight of the giant black bear beside her. "Well this is new," she said, feeling wide awake now, "I've never woken up to a giant bear before… you're not going to eat me are you, cause that would seriously put a dampener on things."

The bear turned his head towards her and huffed, she took it to mean no she was not about to be eaten, he turned away from her once more to stare out across the field. It was the brief flash she had gotten of his eyes in the growing darkness that had her shifting closer to his face. He glanced at her and she saw the awareness and intelligence in those amber coloured eyes and simply knew he was an animagus, or whatever they called them in this world, she smiled and bowed her head towards him. He growled at her but seemed to incline his head in acceptance of her greeting.

"My name is Amethyst," she told him not really knowing what else to say, it was every day you stumbled across a shapeshifter, in fact Galadriel didn't mention them when she told Amethyst of the races of Middle Earth. _Could it be that he's the only one? The last of his kind? That is a rather sad thought._ _Hmm what to call him, I think I will choose Fluffy._ She nodded to herself, accepting the newly dubbed Fluffy into her friendship circle. "It's not every day you make friends with a raven, a tree and a bear," she mused aloud, rolling onto her back and resting her hands behind her head.

Fluffy growled and huffed.

"Yeah I know," she sighed, "Steve, that's the raven, is a little odd I will grant you but Creeker, that's the tree, is fine. A rather wise old thing. Hates axes though, so I wouldn't go near him with one if I were you."

 _Twitter. Tweet. Tweet._

"Don't argue with me Steve, you know full well you're the odd one of this group," she rolled her eyes.

Fluffy growled again and stood, walking away and for a moment she thought the animagus bear had had enough of her weirdness. She didn't blame him. She started talking to herself long ago, making friends with everything from a cloud to a blade of grass and creating conversations with them. The first time Gandalf had witnessed it he had thought she had gained a sickness of the mind, it was only when she explained that it was only make believe to occupy her boredom that he stopped thinking something was wrong.

Fluffy stopped and looked back at her, realising he wanted her to follow she got to her feet and ambled after him. He moved slowly, looking around him constantly and scenting the air, growling occasionally. He led her to a house, she assumed it belonged to him, he didn't enter but he motioned for to go inside before turning back the way they had come.

The house had three sections to it, the barn where she found goats, horses and overly large bees, the kitchen/sitting area and the bedroom. It was the bedroom where she ended up, unable to resist the call of the large fluffy bed and still overly tired from using her magic over such a long distance, she shed her clothes. Her dagger was placed under the pillow, but the rest of her weapons were left beside the chair, she took the shirt that had been thrown over the arm of chair and pulled it over her head hoping her host wouldn't mind. It fell to her knees and she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it.

She awoke just after sunrise to the sound of wood being chopped, slipping from the cosy bed she made her way to the door, yawning as she went. The sight that greeted her had her eyes widening, she knew that the bear was a shifter, but she had no idea the man would be so _big_ she suddenly felt like she was viewing things from Bilbo's perspective. The axe he used was as big as she was, his back was to her and she couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled each time he lifted the axe and brought it down. He was shirtless and thin sheen of sweat clung to his flesh from his work, she folded her arms under her breasts and continued watching, not wanting to disrupt his work nor the view.

"Are you going to watch me all morning?" the voice startled her, it was deep and gruff but there was a hidden kindness to his tone. She blushed and looked away from him, absently rubbing the back of her head.

"I… uh…" _Way to go Potter, very eloquent, you were just checking the guy out, the least you could do is apologise._ "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare," she finally managed to get out.

"I do not mind," he turned to her, the axe resting beside him, "it has been a long while since I have had a woman stare at me so intently. Especially a woman wearing my clothes." He eyed her as much she was eying him. She saw the amber coloured eyes of the bear, the wisdom and the anger concealed within them almost had her taking a step back, his hair was thick and almost like a lion's mane. He looked wild.

"I'm sorry for that too," she added sheepishly, tugging at the shirt, "I will give it you back."

"It looks far better on you," he chuckled and gave her a smile.

"So," she began as she moved over to the picnic table and perched on it, "you're a shapeshifter?"

"A skin-changer," he corrected wearily, as though expecting her to suddenly run for her life.

"Same thing," she shrugged. "I will admit I was a little freaked out when I woke up with a bear beside me, but stranger things have happened before, I wasn't aware there were shapeshifters in Middle Earth."

"There aren't," he said anger overtaking his tone, "I am the last, unless you'd like to help me repopulate my race." He gave her a suggestive leer causing her to laugh and shake her head.

"I'd love to Fluffy," she said between laughs, "but I've a long way to walk before motherhood comes across my path."

"Ah that is a shame," he said even though he was smiling. "Fluffy?"

"Yeah, it's kinda the name I gave you yesterday," she gave him a playful grin.

"Like Steve and Creeker?" he asked with an eyebrow raised mockingly.

"Yes, I do believe I'm rather gifted in naming things," she sniggered and shrugged.

"I have a name, it is Beorn."

"I like Fluffy more," she told him cheekily.

Beorn was a kind man who had had far too much pain in his life, he told her about his shackles in the days that passed, of his peoples ending at the hands of Azog and his orcs. Of his capture, confinement and torture and eventually his escape. Though he had apparently been denied a woman's company for a long time because she couldn't go a day without hearing some form of innuendo from his mouth. It was refreshing though, to be around someone with such a loose tongue, he wasn't concerned with gender stereotypes and treated her as he would treat a friend. She returned the gesture in spades.

He enjoyed her stories, especially those of the Hinukaka Clan just north of the Antarctic, for they were all a tribe of shifters. He laughed his rumbling laugh when he told how the son of the chief had wanted her for his bride. They, like Beorn, were huge even more so than the bear shifter, as they had to adapt to harsh life of the artic. Amethyst couldn't imagine how painful the sex with the son of the chief would have been, let alone giving birth to a babe. A fact she had voiced to Beorn much to his ever growing humour.

She had stayed with Beorn a week before the company of Thorin Oakenshield arrived, though she didn't know they were there at first for they had stayed in the barn. It was when she was walking into the kitchen that she heard them.

"Amethyst is alive?" Bilbo's voice washed over her and she smiled.

"Ah," Beorn responded, "she's been sleeping in my bed a week now."

 _Really Beorn… Really? You have to phrase it like that._ She rolled her eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Thorin asked, she could see them now as she leant in the doorway. She was wearing his shirt again, only this time she was wearing a pair of transfigured leggings, her feet were bare and her hair was done up in a loose ponytail.

"It means," she called out, "that Beorn graciously let me have his bed for my time here and not that I've spent the past week fucking him, no matter how much he would like to think differently."

"You ruin all my fun, little one," Beorn chuckled.

"Good," Thorin muttered, "I do not wish for you to be taken advantage of."

"If I wanted to share my bed with Beorn I damn well would," she told him, annoyed at his words, "and that applies to anyone else. It's no business of yours who I sleep with, Thorin."

"I was not implying that it was," he stated though it was clear that was a lie.

"How did you survive?" Bilbo cut in quickly, sensing an argument and wanting to nip it in the bud before it escalated.

"My dearest Bilbo," she called out dramatically, "that is a very complex tale I am afraid."

"She used her magic," Gandalf told the hobbit, making Amethyst pout.

She sat upon the comfy chair she had conjured with magic as Beorn assessed the dwarves, talking with them as Gandalf told her what had happened. The dwarves had been captured and taken to Goblin Town, Bilbo had somehow managed to slip from the group in that time, Gandalf arrived in time to save them from torture. The Company fled for their lives, fighting as they went, until Gandalf slayed the Goblin King and they were forced to find shelter under the gaze of the sun lest they perish. It was there that they were reunited with Bilbo. But their troubles did not end there, Azog the Defiler had met them with his pale warg, determined to put an end to the line of Durin, he fought with Thorin and almost killed him had it not been for Bilbo and the timely arrival of the Eagles.

"You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?" Beorn's voice brought Gandalf and Amethyst back from their discussion.

"Yes," Gandalf answered, "before Durin's Day falls."

"You are running out of time," he acknowledged.

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," Gandalf said carefully, his gaze assessing Beorn carefully.

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need." Beorn told them wisely, looking from Thorin to Gandalf with narrowed eyes.

Gandalf nodded, already knowing that the forest was dangerous. "We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe."

"Safe? The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked, leaning against a wooden post, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. He did not like Beorn, nor was he comfortable in his home.

"These lands are crawling with Orcs. Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive."

"Will you help us Beorn?" Amethyst asked, her eyes pleading with him, he sighed and gently picked up a mouse, petting it lightly.

"I don't like dwarves," he glared at Thorin, "I hate orcs even more. But I value her friendship, it is because of her that I will help you Thorin Oakenshield. Tell me what you need."

They stood in the trees behind Beorn's house, Gandalf and Beorn stood a few paces away discussing things in hushed tones. Amethyst stood by Bilbo, helping him secure his pony, he was quiet and kept fingering his pocket.

"What do you have Bilbo?" she finally asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

"I found it in the mountains," he mumbled, taking a golden Ring out of his pocket and showing her. She moved to take it, to look at it more closely, but when her hand hovered over it her mind was filled with horrifying words.

 _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._

As though the Ring was speaking to her, goading her into taking it, and for a moment she considered snatching it from Bilbo's hand. Taking it as her own, for it was a very precious thing indeed, her fingers brushed along its golden rim. Coming back to her senses, she tore her hand away, her eyes wide with distrust and confusion. This Ring was like none she had ever seen. No. That wasn't quite true. She had seen something like it before, had worn something like it before, but how was that possible? It couldn't be. That magic wasn't alive here. She shook her head, refusing to even consider it any further.

"Be wary about that Ring Bilbo," she told him finally, turning from him to her own horse, "it holds magic and I do not think it is good."

"You will always be welcome in my home," Beorn told her as they made to leave, "perhaps when you are done slaying dragons you will come back and give me a child."

"Keep dreaming Beorn," she said fondly.

"Oh I shall do not worry about that," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You will have your child, but not from me," she laughed, "take care of yourself my friend."

"And you," he responded seriously, "I do not like the thought of this path you lead, but there is little I can do but tell you to be wary."

They moved out, racing their horses and ponies across the fields and planes that separated them from Beorn's house to the trees of Mirkwood. They encountered no problems in reaching the border of the forest, though Amethyst knew that was Fluffy's doing as she spied him as she dismounted her horse. Bilbo's first assessment of the forest was right, it was sick, and she could feel the dark magic resting heavy in the air. It made her skin crawl and the urge to turn back to the comfort of Beorn's house began to grow within her.

 _Something moves in the shadows unseen, hidden from our sight. Every day it grows in strength. Beware the Necromancer. He is not what he seems._ Galadriel's voice echoed around her head startling her for a moment, but as soon as the words register she looks with worry at the trees. _Gandalf shall go to the High Fells, to see if our enemy truly has returned. You must stay with the dwarves for I fear they will need your strength before the end. Be wary Amethyst. Thranduil's halls are not a welcoming sight, he knows who you are, the power you hold. He will seek your allegiance._

Amethyst sighed, her hand rubbing across her forehead, she felt like whenever she had a moment of peace it was always followed by more stress than before. She could do naught but watch as Gandalf left them, leaving her in charge of the way through Mirkwood with only a warning to stay on the path and not to touch the enchanted river, she only had a chance to wish him safe travels before he was off. She could only hope he would find nothing, but even though she hoped she already knew something was not right and that Gandalf's trip would bring about a change.

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A/N: Did you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it? Do not fear, we may see Creeker and Steve again... maybe... .

So next chapter is the walk through mirkwood, and the first meeting of Legolas and Amethyst, whose excited for that? I know I am!

Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So... it's that time of year where my attention shifts from fun things like writing these stories to boring things like writing essays. This is my final year at uni, so I really have to try hard, unfortunately, it means I don't have as much time as I'd like to update these stories. I apologise for that.

On the bright side, Amethyst finally meets Legolas at the end of this chapter.

Enjoy~

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After entering the forest it was easy to find the path, though as they progressed it became harder and harder, the air around them seemed to thicken and grow heavy. Their minds grew drowsy, even Amethyst's who was shielded by her Occlumency skills, was not immune though her resistance was far greater, it was down to her to keep them all together as they began mumbling and seeing things. They found the remains of the bridge that Gandalf mentioned, but it is impassable, only a ruin.

Bofur suggested that they swim across, but Thorin quickly reminded them of Gandalf's warning. They tried to find another way across; Kili found some large vines and began to climb over. Thorin told him to stop, sending Bilbo over instead, due to him being the smallest and the lightest. Amethyst stepped up behind him, travelling through the vines easier than Bilbo because of her longer legs. Bilbo only just manages to make it to the other side. He tried to warn the others that something didn't seem right, but the dwarves had already started crossing over.

She took a step away from him, watching the trees carefully and from it appeared a beautiful white stag. She almost mistook it for a patronus it was that ethereal. It watched her, before motioning its head behind him, as though it wished for them to follow, she smiled at it knowing that the stag wished to help them. She heard a familiar whistle of an arrow and the stag shot off, scared away by Thorin.

"Why did you do that?" she turned on him, "that stag was going to help."

"It's bad luck," Bilbo nodded, agreeing with Amethyst.

"I don't believe in luck," Thorin sneered, "I make my own luck."

Bilbo's word were somewhat prophetic for not a moment later Bombur fell into the enchanted river, asleep, he did not wake when they pulled him from the water. Nor when they called his name and tried to rouse him. He had fallen into a magical coma, Amethyst deduced, and though she could have healed him Thorin did not wish to waste time. They built a make shift stretcher, which Amethyst thought redundant, considering in the time it took to build it she could have healed him, nonetheless she cast a weightless charm on Bombur to make carrying him around easier.

" _My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst."_

A twelve-year-old Amethyst and Ron Weasley stood before her, looking around them wildly as the large spiders began their descent. She heard the revving of a car engine and the image disappeared. She shook her head, wondering why she would be remembering that moment. _The forest is playing tricks on me_ , she thought only to watch as Bilbo plucked his finger on a strange looking white net.

" _Why spiders? Why couldn't it be follow the butterflies?"_ the memory of that night in the forest came back to her again and with a startling realisation she grabbed Bilbo's hand, panicked she looked around her.

"What's wrong?" Bilbo asked sluggishly.

"I think this forest is infested," she said just as sluggishly.

"With what?" he blinked, tottering as though he were drunk.

"Spiders," she mumbled.

Amethyst could no longer say how long they had been walking, all she knew was that they'd lost the path and for the past few moments her six year old self had been walking beside her. Except her feet were on backwards and instead of hands she had flippers and the only noise she made was that of mewling kitten. It was all very strange. She asked Bilbo what he thought but he only told her there was nothing there. Clearly Bilbo had gone blind.

"Bilbo," she called turning to her left only to realise the little hobbit was gone and in his place was Thorin. A pink haired Thorin wearing clown shoes. "Thorin! Are you gonna be a clown? Is that why your hair's pink? 's a good look." She patted his head and wondered off. She turned to her six year old self only to find she'd evolved into a Jolteon.

"Jolteon!" she cried rushing forwards to hug the Pokémon. "Where've you been all my life?" She quickly rubbed her cheek against Jolteon's cooing at it and laughing.

"Eh I don't know what a Jolty thing is but you're a strange looking chair," Jolteon told her.

"Don't be silly Jolteon." She cooed pulling away to find her Jolteon had morphed into a mushroom. She pushed the mushroom back thoroughly disgusted and stomped away. "Kagome kagome," she began to sing a song she'd had heard the children of a small village in Japan singing. "Kago no naka no tori wa. Itsu itsu deyaru. Yoake no ban ni…" She flapped her hands up and down as though she were a bird before collapsing into a fit a giggles. "I want a cheeseburger," she declared suddenly, the craving hitting her so hard she could almost taste it.

"We've lost the sun."

The words from one of the dwarves swam around her head and she frowned in contemplation. "The sun is up, you can't lose it silly," she rolled her eyes.

"Up," she heard Bilbo repeat and she saw his curly head looking up, "the sun is up."

"Yes!" she cried happily, "up in the sky, a big ball of flame."

She plonked herself on the ground, cheering as she saw Bilbo begin to climb the tree deciding she would be his personal cheerleader. She was brought out of her cheering and the haze that was over her mind lifted at the urgent brush of her magic. She tilted her head to the side, as if her magic was whispering to her and she was listening. It was warning her that something was wrong. She got to her feet just as Thorin called for the others to be silent. Her magic pulsed almost violently, but she had no time to move before something pierced her lower back and she grew numb.

She was paralysed she realised with a growing horror as she was wrapped up in a spider web, like a fly caught by the predator, she was helpless. Her magic circulated her body, she could not feel it, but it was busy undoing the paralysis caused by the spider. _Oh, what would Sensei think of me? Allowing myself to succumb to the forest's enchantments. What an amateur._ Amethyst and the dwarves were dragged away and strung up in the nest of the giant spiders, they hissed to each other excitedly no doubt delighting in the prey they had caught. She felt the muscles in her upper thigh twitch and slowly movement returned to her.

Then she was falling, cut down from the branch she had been hanging from by Bilbo, she landed on the dwarves and began pulling her way out of her cocoon. She looked around for Bilbo, marvelling how much courage the hobbit had gained since leaving Bag End. She had no time for a closer look for the spiders had descended on them. She drew her swords, slashing through the first spider with Phoenix and plunging Dragon into the head of the second.

"Kili!" she hears Fili shout as his brother is captured by a spider, she sheathed her swords, drew her bow. Nocking an arrow she aimed and added her magic to the point, she released it, it tore into the spider and hit the tree behind it with a thwack. Kili gave her a grateful nod.

The spiders around them lay dead and they decide to make a break for it, only to find more spiders coming for them, she pulled another arrow from her quiver and drew back the string. She noticed strange movement, not a spider but a figure gliding down the silk of the spider and landing on it to kill it. She almost groans as the figure slides under another spider, slicing it in two, landing before Thorin with his bow drawn and arrow pointed directly at the dwarf. Her own arrow now pointing into that of another male elf, who smirked at her, his own arrow directed at her.

"Do not think I won't kill you dwarf," the blonde one sneered at Thorin, his voice conceited and arrogant, "it would be my pleasure."

 _I think I shall dub him Malfoy Jr._ she thought with a roll of her eyes, slowly to show she meant no harm she made to release the arrow from her bowstring.

"Help!" Kili shouted, surrounded by spiders.

"Kili!" Fili shouted desperate to get to his brother but unable to.

Green eyes narrowed dangerously, in a movement almost too quick for the elves to follow, she had whirled around, pooled her magic into the bow and arrow, and released. It was a violent action, done without the usual precision she took, her arrow tipped with magic lit a path through the darkened forest. It tore right through the spider, eviscerating it, and pierced several tress in its path. For a long while nothing happened, but she could sense the elves' eyes on her and the subtle shift of their arrows. It was unnerving to have so many metal tips pointing at her, but she understood to a certain extent, they had assessed who the biggest threat was. It was her. She laughed awkwardly, and gave a helpless shrug, looking innocent as though she hadn't turned a spider to dust.

"I might have gone a little overboard," she told them sheepishly. The dwarves sniggered but the elves remained as stoic as ever.

Malfoy Jr. approached her hesitantly, reluctant to approach an enemy that clearly had power, yet she was their prisoner, so must be taken captive. He would not risk the lives of his companions should she turn violent. She noted the move, the weariness, but she also saw the courage beneath the coolness of his gaze. Tilting her head to the side, her lips lifted into an amused smile. "I don't bite," she told him, before leaning closer, her smile turning salacious as a playfulness entered her eyes. "Unless you want me to."

Her daring words seemed to snap the blonde out whatever hesitance he had, for he snatched the bow from her hands, ordered the others to be searched and gave her the most unimpressed look she had ever seen. "Take it off."

He meant her swords, but she couldn't help playing with him a little more. "That's awfully forward of you to ask me to strip for you, Master Elf. Rather presumptuous as well. I do not even know your name."

She had the girlish urge to squeal when she saw the tips of his ears turn pink, a flush rose behind his cheeks and he could no longer meet her gaze, it was adorable. As though he were a child that been chastised. His hand gripped her bow, shifting along the wood in a nervous action. He seemed to choke slightly as he tried to respond to her, all in all, his reaction thoroughly satisfied her.

"I did not…" he broke off, looking so very awkward that she laughed, but his embarrassment turned to anger. "I would never ask a _mortal_ to strip. They are such loathsome creatures."

"So now I'm ugly?" She feigned an affronted look, placing her hand on her hips and raising an eyebrow. "Well isn't that nice," she rose her voice, the others clearly able to listen in to their conversation. "First, you ask me to take my clothes off, I deny you and suddenly I am not good enough. What? Am not desirable?"

Malfoy Jr. looked so startled and speechless that she almost pitied him. Almost. She was having far too much fun. "I-I," he stuttered, stepping back, trying to regain his honour. "My father is ki-"

She was gone.

Giggles erupted from her so hard she almost fell to the ground, she did not stop even when the tears streamed down her cheeks or her breath left her in painful gasps. _He even used the classic Malfoy line! Oh, Draco, I've found you a kindred spirit!_

"As I was saying," he coughed, her laughter had finally subsided, "my father is the king of this realm, as the prince, I would never dishonour you so, not only would it reflect badly upon my own person but it would do so on the Woodland Realm. I apologise if offence was given, I did not mean to imply that you were not attractive, nor that I wanted you to reveal yourself to me. I simply wanted your weapons."

Guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, she had toyed with him because he reminded her so strongly of Draco, but he was not the Malfoy heir. "I know," she said softly, shrugging, "I knew what you wanted. I was just playing with you, I didn't mean to make you all embarrassed and stuff. I'm sorry." Carefully she undid the straps holding her quiver to her back, handed it to him before giving him her swords and dagger. "Be careful with that," she motioned to the dagger, "it was given to me by someone I hold very dear. I'll not forgive you if you lose it."

Legolas did not know what to make of the brazen woman, now residing in his father's dungeons, she was clearly not afraid to stand up to him. Strange for one of the mortal race to be so bold, females usually did as the males told them too, they were painfully submissive and it made them so very boring. Yet, she defied his expectations and _teased_ him, had actually made him _blush_. When she mistook his words, thinking he had asked her to strip, he could not help but look at her body. So very unlike the slim, almost straight, edges like many elleth like Tauriel possessed. She was curvy, a thin waist and wide hips, long legs and a voluptuous chest. Her clothes clung to her, practical for the movement of a warrior, and so improper for that of a female. It left little to the imagination, all he had to do was picture the softness of her skin, for he was certain it would be soft.

 _What are you thinking?_ He chastised himself hotly. _She is mortal, and you are picturing most improper thoughts. What of Tauriel?_

Tauriel was attractive, with her fire-kissed hair and slim yet strong frame, she was the epitome of the female warrior. The memory of the woman's speed and accuracy when firing her arrow to aid the lone dwarf circulated his mind, the power which had accompanied the arrow had stunned him. That was power, a warrior, and then she'd turned to him with all the softness of a woman and left him feeling like an inexperienced elfling. He saw her power within her endless eyes, her soul so very strong and light called to him, even now, with her so many floors below him, it called to him.

 _I do not know her name and she affects me so._

"Legolas?" his father's voice startled him out of his thoughts, he looked around him and noted the throne room was now empty. Had he really missed the entire conversation between his father and Thorin Oakenshield? "What holds your attention?"

"One of the prisoners," Legolas began unsurely, reluctant to talk of this with his father.

"A dwarf has caused this distraction within you?" he gave Legolas an incredulous look.

"Of course not," Legolas snappishly replied, "no dwarf is interesting. But the woman who was with them-"

"There was a woman with them?" The king's interest was mildly piqued.

"Yes," Legolas confirmed, his hand twitching over the dagger concealed in his tunic. "She was young, I believe, yet held many weapons of a craftsmanship I have not seen. Far greater than that of any man, I'd say it were of elvish make, if only for the unknown metal within the swords. The style is rather unique too. She is a skilled, far more than an average mortal man."

"So the girl has learnt how to fight and chooses to travel with dwarves, what business is it of ours?" the king laughed. "Are you attracted to her, Legolas? To see a human female, without a proper male escort, is strange I will grant. No doubt it is this that distracts you. Shall I give you some advice? Bury yourself between her thighs, your distraction will dissipate, you need only bed a pretty mortal once before they become tiresome. It is not as if she will be a maiden she travels with dwarves after all."

His callous words bothered Legolas and he found his fists clenching in anger, he did not like the girl's honour being called into question. Nor the suggestion to bed her. Even if he did he was almost positive he would not be rid of thoughts of her. He watched his father stride towards the exit, no doubt to retire to his chambers, and waited until he was at the door before speaking again. "She has powers," he called, "the likes of which I have never seen. It was not dark, nor anything tainted, in fact it felt pure. Good. Twas magic, but not magic of this world. She is different, father, otherworldly."

"Otherworldly? Magic?" the king paused, Legolas could clearly see him connecting the dots to a picture he was not privy too. Realisation sunk into the king's eyes before a gleeful, almost giddy, look overtook him. "Have her brought to my solar within the hour. I think I might like to meet this girl that interests you."

Legolas was left with the feeling of regret, somehow he felt as though he had made a grave mistake.

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A/N: Writing their interaction together was hard... I rewrote a million times to try and get the right feel to it. Did it work? Was the shift to Legolas' perspective okay? Writing Thranduil is going to be the hardest thing in my life, I even struggled with his little speech. Wish me luck for that little interaction next chapter .

I know it's short, but I have a lot going on, and I felt like this was a good cut off point. I apologise once again for not updating promptly, I can ask that you all bear with me until I graduate.

Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This one is nearly double what I normally write, a treat for you dear readers, because I am happy that I have completed my dissertation. Now all I have to worry about is my essays.

I liked this chapter.

Enjoy~

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She was humming a song under her breath, a tune he could hear before he began to descend the steps into the dungeon. Hers was the first cell, the most comfy – if you could call a prison cell comfy – and the warmest, he'd made sure she was placed in that cell. He wondered if the song had any words, he wondered if she could sing, most mortal women could not. But she had defied his every expectation so far, why not in this? He approached the cell wearily, lingering in the shadows a long while before stepping into the light and revealing himself.

"Blondie!" she grinned at him, unbidden, he felt his own smile surfacing. "Have you come to rescue me? Wait…" she paused as if mulling over something, before sighing and shaking her head. "I'm not a princess, you're not a knight in shining armour. Too bad. You can't rescue me."

"I do not understand," he frowned at her.

"Fairy tales, blondie," she tutted and shook her head disapprovingly. "Stories children are told. In them, the princess always get into some danger, and the knight in shining armour rides in on the white horse to save the day."

"Ah," he nodded, finally understanding her words. "And I cannot save you because you are not a princess, I am not a knight and this is not a story."

"Give the elf a cookie! He figured it out!" her laugh was deeper than that of an elleth's, but no less enchanting. "So, blondie, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"You speak in a rather unique way," he commented, watching her with a fascinated look. "I assume you mean to inquire as to what brings me here. I am here to bring you to my father."

"Ah, the big cheese demands my presence," she waggled her eyebrows. "To important to come collect me himself, huh?"

"Big cheese?" he understood the meaning, but the words baffled him, he shook his head to clear her strangeness from his thoughts. "The king is too busy to do such menial tasks."

"Are you implying I'm a menial task?" she pouted, but the twinkle in her eyes told him she was playing. "You're rather two-faced you know, blondie, I mean in the woods you all but wanted to ravish me. Now you're saying I'm a menial task. It's enough to give a girl whiplash."

Feeling a playfulness rise within himself, he smirked at her. "I would never dare to ravish a lady in the woods, it is unsightly and disgraceful. My bed, on the other hand, is open to such activities."

"Oh my," she fluttered her eyelashes in such a dramatic way he was forced to hide his laughter, "I fear for my poor virtue the longer I spend time with you. I still don't know the name of the elf who wants to do such naughty things to my poor virgin body." She threw him a salacious wink.

"Forgive me, my lady, I am Legolas." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed, before freezing, her words suddenly clicking within his mind. "You are a maiden?" he blushed, feeling mortified at having responded to her teasing with his own. Quickly, to stop himself from blabbering like an idiot, he unlocked her cell and motioned her forwards. Biting his inner cheek to stop words of apology slipping from his tongue, he led her up the stairs.

"Yeah I'm a _maiden_ ," she snickered at saying the word. "My name is Amethyst."

"I apologise, Lady Amethyst," he blurted out, unable to contain the urge any longer. "I should not have implied that my bed was open to you, or that I wished to-"

"Hey, Legolas," she cut him off, "chill out. Please. Just because I'm a virgin, doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun. 'Sides, I'm the one that started it. I'm not some shy blushing maid, ready to flee at the first hint of sexual innuendo. C'mon give me more credit than that. I love Rock N Roll and you can hardly find a song that doesn't feature sex, girls, or some highly vague metaphor. It's harmless."

He stared at her as thought she'd grown another head, incredulity coursing through his body, he couldn't quite believe what he had heard. Elves were much freer with their bodies, after all they lived a long time and many did not find their mates until they were several thousand years old. The Edain were far more conservative, their women saved themselves for marriage, though they were usually married young. Sex was an act of procreation, not the pleasurable experience it was for the elves. "Are you human?" he blurted out before he could clamp down on the urge.

That was another thing he was discovering about the girl before him, she chipped away at the stoicism all elves were trained to have, leaving him as uncensored as an elfling.

"Depends on who you ask," she laughed whole heartedly, not as offended as he thought she'd be. "I mean I was born human but then I died, became the owner of the Deathly Hallows, died again and travelled to a whole new world. I'm not sure _what_ I am anymore. I'm open to suggestions though."

Clarity hit him like an arrow, she was the Hope of Middle Earth, the one the prophecy spoke of, the realisation made him breathless. Her behaviour was completely otherworldly, he'd even mentioned that fact to his father, so why had it not clicked until now? He was horrified at his casual behaviour with her. "My lady," he bowed deeply, "I did not realise who you were. Please, forgive my actions and careless words."

"Excuse me?" she was taken aback and frowned at him.

"You are the Hope of Middle Earth." His frown matched hers, not understanding why she allowed him to tease her, never mind how he treated her in the forest. "I was impolite and cruel to someone above my station. Please forgive my ignorance."

"I'm not _above_ you," her sneer had him taken a step back. " _Merlin_ , blondie, what about my behaviour suggested I was insulted or cared?"

"Yo-You are the one mentioned in the prophecy, you are destined for-"

"I see," she took her own step backwards, "well, let me impart on you some important information. Prophecies are nothing more than a few words spoken to ruin someone's life, they are nothing more than a nuisance. I'm so sick of people like you, of people who can't see beyond those words. Yes I'm supposed to do some great things, but I'm so much more than a bunch of words, I'm a person who has feelings and ambitions of my own. I thought we were becoming friends, Legolas, but here you are apologising to me for being _yourself._ "

He saw his error just as quickly as he saw the hurt in her eyes, obviously she was used to being treated by accordance to what someone dictates. Guilt began to eat him for causing her this hurt, along with a pain in his heart that he could not explain, he opened his mouth to apologise but realised it would not be an apology she would want to hear. Instead he thought to what she had last said and gave her a wry smile. "I would be honoured to be friends," he settled with saying and by the beaming smile she gave him, he had chosen correctly.

"We can be the very best of friends, blondie," she declared, linking her arm through his and leading him down the hall.

"Blondie?" he questioned with a raise of his eyebrow, pulling her left down a side corridor.

"It's your nickname," she told him, before pausing slightly. "Though I know many blondes. Galadriel, Celeborn, Haldir, Orophin, Rumil. I'm beginning to think I know too many blondes."

"Do you give nicknames to them all?"

"Of course not, though I do call Haldir a dick sometimes. But only when he acts like one. He's so uptight." She laughed, clearly picturing the strict Marchwarden. "Oh, I forgot Glorfindel! I know him too. He's my fellow partner in crime along with Elladan and Elrohir. Glorfindel is awesome, he doesn't have a nickname yet, because I cannot think of one that would do him justice."

Clearly she was fond of Glorfindel, the thoughts unsettled him, she had given Legolas a nickname so quickly. It was almost insulting to be told that she had not gifted the Lord of the Golden Flower because she wanted one so perfect. Jealousy rose within him and he was hard pushed to squash it back down, he did not want her to give Glorfindel a nickname, he wanted to be the only one with a nickname. There was no denying that the Balrog slayer was great, he was handsome and so filled with life and joy with a skill for fighting that Legolas could never dream to possess.

 _You are being selfish,_ he thought scathingly, _Amethyst is a lovely woman, she is sure to have many friends. Your jealousy has no place here._

Still, he could not shake the feeling completely. His father was waiting for them in the solar when they arrived, looking as he always did, arrogant and royal. The chair he sat upon was a smaller version of the throne in the throne room, dramatic and over the top. He shifted awkwardly, praying that Amethyst did not judge him based upon what his father did. A glance at the feisty woman was enough to tell him this was going to be a strange encounter, she was not at all intimidated, rather, she looked amused.

 _Looks like Malfoy sr. has a doppelganger too,_ she thought, the edge of her lips twitching as she tried to contain the urge to laugh.

"I know who you are," Thranduil began, leaning forwards slightly.

"What a coincidence," she interrupted a mischievous smile on her face, "I know who I am too. Small world eh?"

"You are the child whose arrival was foretold," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted him, though the slight clenching of his jaw had her smirking. "The one who will-"

"Defeat the darkness, make kingdoms rise, make some friends, yada, yada, yada." She rolled her eyes, "can we move past this? I mean I've done this whole revelation thing two times already. It's old news." It was like being the girl-who-lived all over again.

"Indeed," his lips pursed sourly, before he gave her a devastatingly handsome smile. _Okay so there is one difference between the two senior Malfoy's, this one is so much more handsome and he knows it too… Jerk._ She thought, unable to hide her reddening cheeks. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves no?"

"Shouldn't that have happened first?" she muttered absently kicking at the ground.

"Yes you are right of course," he bowed his head, though his eyes held their superiority, "I am Thranduil Oropherion, you've met my son, Legolas."

"Amethyst," she responded begrudgingly.

"You are a sight to behold." His eyes roved over her figure, taking in details even she could not see. "Unlike those of your kin and those you travel with… tell me, what is your relationship with Thorin Oakenshield is. He seemed quite possessive of you when I spoke with him."

"He is the leader of the Company, that is all," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing, she didn't like where this was heading. He stood in one smooth motion and approached her.

"Somehow I do not believe you," his words were cold and his own eyes narrowed upon hers, "he cares for you a great deal more than just a leader would. Have you given him your allegiance? Have you lain with him? Is that what it takes to have the power you are said to hold? A pleasurable night… I can give you far more pleasure than the dwarf can."

"Ada," Legolas called warningly, "do not play your games with her."

"Game? I play no game, Legolas," Thranduil laughed, his gaze deadly serious, he turned from her and moved closer to his son. "She is beautiful is she not? A gem of starlight amidst coals. It would be no effort to bed her. Though I do wonder… you have never cared what games I play with my prisoners before…" he smirked circling his son as though he was a puzzle, "why start now?"

Legolas tensed, revealing to any with eyes that his father's treatment bothered him. It was wrong to treat her like a common harlot, as though she was to conform to every stereotype they knew of human women, she was far more than that. As they had said earlier, Legolas was her friend, and he didn't want his friend to receive such harsh and crude words form his father. "I just wondered if it was wise."

"Excuse me," Amethyst called waving her hand, "remember me? I'm the girl you're discussing, you know, the one you're talking about fucking."

"Such a crude way to put it," Malfoy Sr. was amused. Legolas nearly groaned, the differences he saw in Amethyst, the ones that attracted her to him, would be the very same ones that sparked his father's interest.

"Yeah well it isn't happening, sparkles," she huffed, her hands on her hips. "My bed remains very much closed to all who isn't me, so take your desires and go fuck some other poor sucker because you won't be doing it with me. Neither is Thorin for that matter. What is wrong with you people? A girl can't spend five minutes alone with a guy without automatically screwing him? Some of us have standards you know, and morals."

She couldn't decide on whether or not she should be amused or insulted. If he wanted her allegiance he wasn't getting it, besides there was only one person in all of Middle Earth she would swear fealty to, and it wasn't the blonde, arrogant, Malfoy wannabe.

"You mean to tell me that you have been travelling with Thorin and he has not tried to bed you?" he seemed confused for a brief moment before he snorted. "Of course the dwarf probably thinks himself above such carnal desires."

"Can we please, for the love of Merlin, move past my sex life? It's inactive and really rather boring. You're a king, not some gossip girl." she pleaded, the whole thing was getting beyond the point of awkward and soon would be reaching the point of pissed off.

"Very well," he seemed to be growing more amused, Legolas just looked awkward and embarrassed. "I wish to gain your allegiance, I've told you that, if you do not require sexual favours then what do you want?"

"Nothing," she told him, "you will not have my allegiance. I cannot be bought by anyone of any race."

"Lies," he sneered, becoming cold in the face of her refusal, "humans are such weak deplorable creatures."

"I will not allow you to bed me so now you try to insult me?" she asked with a snort, "you are never going to do anything more than make me loathe you at this rate."

"If you will not be willing I shall simply have to force your hand, it would be a shame if the dwarves never reach the mountain would it not?"

"Let me clear something up for you, sparkles," she began, her tone clipped and angry, "I am the heir of the most powerful wizard in the history of my world. I defeated the most feared and powerful Dark Lord in all of magical history at the age of seventeen. I have travelled the entirety of my world and seen things you could never even begin to dream of. I have seen life and all that is good, I have seen death and all that is bad. I have travelled worlds." She spoke slowly, her words echoing around the halls, she flicked her wrist and her wand, hidden by a multitude of enchantments, dropped into her hand. She pointed it at Thranduil, her magical aura flaring wildly. "And you dare to threaten me? Threaten my friends? You should have gone about this differently, instead you stereotyped me into what you knew of the humans you've seen and that was your mistake. You should have sought my friendship, not to control me, for I value my friends above even myself. You are a cruel and selfish elf, but more than that, you are a coward. The dwarves are my friends, harm them and I will end you."

"You would threaten me? The King of the Woodland Realm? Over a few dwarves?" He was utterly perplexed and a little afraid of the angry witch. He had seriously underestimated her.

"I would die for my friends," she responded seriously. "I don't respond well to threats, but I'm a bigger picture kind of girl, and I know it's hard to see beyond what you know. You want my loyalty? Seek my friendship. But I will never bow down to you nor follow you blindly."

"I… apologise…" his pause told her he didn't offer apologies often, Legolas looked surprised. "How do I gain this friendship of yours?"

"For a start," she grinned, sheathing her wand once more, "you could let Thorin and his companions go. Call it a token of good will."

"I will not," he sneered, "they will awaken the dragon and Smaug's wrath will come upon us all."

"Afraid of a little dragon are we?" she sneered back at him, taunting him with her tone, "Why do think Gandalf wanted me on this quest? I'm not like the Istari, nor am I like the humans who think themselves powerful by creating illusions. Smaug is my responsibility. A creature born of magic can only be ended by magic." Actually, she hoped to reason with the great beast, not to kill it, for a dragon was magic and so was she and that created a bond between them.

"You have no idea the wrath and ruin of dragon fire," he spat at her, appearing in that moment rather insane and broken. "You have not seen what I have seen. Dragons are monsters."

"No, I have not," she told him softly, "but then you have not seen what I have seen either. Dragons are wise creatures, but people fear their wrath and thus never accept them. Has it never crossed your mind that Smaug is how he is because he was never given a chance to prove himself otherwise? How can we progress, when others will not let us? I once knew a man," she paused, turning away from the king and his son, "he was a great man, kind and with a heart of gold, yet once a month, on the night of a full moon, he would turn into a werewolf. He could not help it, he did not want it, it was a curse given by another. But for all his good qualities, and there were many, people would sneer, ridicule and put him down because of the beast within. How is that fair? How can you sit upon your throne and judge others, when you cannot possibly know their hearts? How can you call an entire race monsters? When it is you who will not allow them to change, who cannot see beyond the knowledge you hold. The world is changing, Thranduil, my presence alone signifies that, and it will be a long road and it is only made lighter when an opportunity for change presents itself to those in need of it. What will you do? Are going to sit by, like an idle king, or will you stand up and prove yourself a being capable of gifting others a chance?"

He was blown away by the human before him and the words of the prophecy were made that much clearer to him. The tiny creature that threatened him with her magic – and what a terrible thing her wrath would be with such power under her control – and had managed to gain his respect with a few short words. She possessed an insight he had never seen in the Edain, far more so than any female who were easy to sway with a few pretty smiles. He looked towards his son and found himself in shock once again, for Legolas was utterly enthralled by the woman, he looked awed and proud of Amethyst. But there was another emotion swimming within the eyes of his son, a fondness and adoration that spoke a thousand words, but it was unacknowledged within Legolas. Thranduil smiled and turned away from the sight, he would not tell his son what he had seen, nor reveal the secret to the woman before him. But that didn't mean he couldn't help things along. He could only hope that it wouldn't remain unacknowledged for long, a mating bond was a precious thing and it would only cause heartache should it remain unconsummated.

Amethyst's words held potential, she could rally many to her side with her passion and eloquence, she would make a great queen for his people for her words were correct, he had sat by idly for far too long. Perhaps it was time to change that, but first there was the small matter of the return of his deceased mate's starlight gems.

"My king!" another elf came running up the wooden bridge, "the dwarves have escaped! They're using the river!"

"Well would you look at that?" she laughed softly, thanking her lucky stars for a certain hobbit, because she just knew Bilbo had a hand in this. Burglar material indeed.

'Find them, Legolas,' Thranduil ordered sharply, a piercing look aimed at Amethyst. But it was clear she had nothing to do with their escape, though she was highly amused by the situation. Legolas left the room, a lingering glance at Amethyst that the king did not miss. He smiled a true caring smile and leaned back in his throne. 'I like you, young traveller,' he told the girl. 'You are a rare gem and I can see why it is you who are the hope for this world. There is a wisdom within you, perhaps not like the all knowingness of Galadriel or the riddles spoken by Gandalf, but an altogether different type.'

He stood, discarding the long cloak and stepping down to be level with the mage, he approached her slowly. 'You have surpassed my expectations and more,' he pressed his hand against her cheek, a sadness in his eyes and a bittersweet smile coming to his face. 'I see your heart,' he told her. 'You have much love to give, courage to share and enough power to protect those who have your love. Perhaps that is all that this world needs. The wisdom of a kind heart.'

Thranduil was not as cold hearted as he first appeared, she mused as she was led away, he was merely jaded. She couldn't blame him. His home was no longer the safe place called the greenwood, it was attacked daily by the spiders and the threat of darkness clung so heavily to the trees. It was enough to make even the kindest of souls weary. Their last exchange revealed the heart beneath the carefully constructed façade. Thranduil had to be the bad guy to protect his people, he had to be the one to make the hard decisions, and he did it alone. She noted the absence of Legolas' mother and she saw the longing and pain in his eyes when he spoke of her heart. A pain that had been reflected in Snape's eyes when he clung to her dead mother. She sighed softly, gave a sad smile and followed the guard without complaint.

Her status apparently entitled her to an upgrade in accommodation, she smiled when she saw the feather bed. Felt the soft silken texture under her fingers. There was nothing like flying coach, only to be told you were being upgraded to first class, she snorted. She sat on the bed for only a moment before exhaustion hit her, she didn't even bother to take off her clothes, or get under the sheets, she merely crawled into the centre of the bed and fell asleep. She did not wake for several hours, when she did, she felt less tired and actually took the time to explore the room. The wardrobe was fully stocked with tunics and breeches, a pair of boots lay beside it. It looked lived in. She thought nothing of it, passing it off as an elvish weirdness, she was far too curious to stop looking.

Through a door on the right saw a small hot spring, the steam rose from the surface of the water enticingly. She should go after the dwarves and Bilbo, but the desire to bathe and sleep in comfort overwhelmed her.

Shrugging out of her clothes, she cast a spell to clean them, placed her wand on the vanity and grabbed the oils that were placed on it. She placed them on the side of the bath, before stepping in, all but moaning as the hot water did wonders to her aching muscles. _Yes, the dwarves can handle themselves for a short while. It's time for some Amethyst TLC._ She dipped her head into the water, ran her fingers through her hair, then surfaced. She gathered the oils, smelled each one of them, they were all rather masculine, but in her desire to wash, she did not care.

Lathering the oil in her hands she began to rub over her arms, when she got to her shoulders she slowed down, rubbing the muscles. This time she did moan. She took the time to wash her body completely, kneading the tense muscles, until she was completely satisfied. Her eyes were closed, from both tiredness and relaxation, her hands ran up and down her neck. Gently she massaged the oil into her breasts, her thumbs brushing over her nipples, they pebbled beneath her touch and caused a small spark of pleasure to run through her. She hummed contentedly, absently circling the sensitised flesh.

A choked sound, a mix between a groan and an exclamation of shock, had her eyes opening quickly to see Legolas stood at the edge of the bath, watching her with a wide eyed interest. He was shirtless, his weapons and boots were gone, and no doubt he intended to bath. She couldn't stop herself from looking at his muscled chest, there was some definition and he clearly kept in shape, but it wasn't over the top like human males in her world strived to. There was strength in his body.

She swallowed thickly and, realising she was still touching her breasts, quickly dropped into the water until it was up to her neck.

"What…" he coughed, a flush rising hotly up the back of his neck. "What are you doing here?"

She looked from the water to him and gave him an incredulous look. "Bathing," she responded dryly.

"I can see that," he pressed a hand against his forehead. "But what are you doing in my private bath?"

"Eh?" she was confused, "this is where your father told the guard to take me. He said I was to stay here. I didn't know it was your room."

"Ada," he groaned and began muttering under his breath, no doubt cursing his father. "I apologise," he told her stiffly. "My ada is clearly playing games. I did not mean to intrude upon you, nor see your form, my lady."

He was being so uptight, so impersonal, there was nothing of the elf that had teased her in the hallways within his hard gaze. She didn't like it, so Amethyst decided to break him of that stoicism.

"I shall leave you to finish," he bowed to her and turned sharply on his heel.

"Hey, Legolas!" she called, pushing herself forwards in the water, she came to the edge just as he turned around. Her arms came out of the water, to rest upon the edge. "Wanna join me?" she asked with a teasing grin.

Predictably, his eyes widened and the tips of his ears turned pink, he made a choking sound at the back of his throat. "You should not jest about such things, Amethyst," he told her seriously. "Someone might take you seriously."

"Oh? Are you scared to do it?" she challenged wickedly.

"It is not I that should be scared," he grinned at her, leaning forwards slightly to look her in the eye. "I am not the virgin here."

"I should hope not with how long you elves live," she chuckled, moving to rest her chin on her arms. "But I'm not the one who blushes like a virgin at the first mention of anything untoward."

"It is not my fault. I do not expect such things to come from your sweet face. Your looks are deceiving, my lady, for you look as though you were fashioned from the stars themselves, but you are a minx."

"Well, if that wasn't the sweetest back handed compliment ever," her laughter rang around the room.

"I will decline your offer," he smiled and turned away from her, walking back towards the door, he paused and looked over his shoulder. "This time."

OoO

Gandalf entered Dol Guldor with a great amount of trepidation, as Radagast had pointed out to him, the old fortress looked abandoned. But he could feel the magic that hid the place, making it look no more than a ruin. He feared to enter for more than one reason, he did not want to find what he knew he would and he did not wish to leave behind his companions. He gripped his staff tighter and hoped that Radagast got to Galadriel sooner rather than later. Glamdring was clenched in his other hand, held out in front of him defensively, he was tense and quick to startle.

" _You shouldn't tense your body old man,"_ Amethyst's words echoed around his head along with her tinkling laughter. He often sparred with the girl though he could not deny she was far better than him. _"Loosen up and allow your instincts to guide you. Fear cuts deeper than swords."_

"Fear cuts deeper than swords," he found himself repeating, the memories of the girl he considered his closest friend warming him and giving him courage. Still he couldn't rid himself of his fear entirely, but then he supposed that was good, fear prevents you from being reckless.

He swallowed thickly and continued his assessment of Dol Guldor, intending to reveal the magic on the place. "Cé ná ulco sís nurtaina… I ettuluvas caninye! Cánin i sá tanuvaxe!" the Quenya slipped from his mouth easily, commanding the forces of evil to show themselves. He would have to repeat the enchantment a few times, for the spell on the fortress was strong and it did nothing to calm him. He wished Amethyst was by his side, for though she was young and brave, she was intelligent and powerful.

" _You don't have to be powerful to be strong you know? Neville proved that when he stood up to Voldemort. It's not a matter of skills or magical strength, it's about standing up for what's right no matter what. To look evil in the eye, no matter how afraid you are, and not break."_

Young she may be but she was not a fool and she had taught him many things, and her words were a comfort to him now. He repeated the words of the spell again, rounding a corner, only to let out startled groan as he was jumped. He could not really say what happened, it was all adrenaline filled movement and running through the maze-like ruin. It was Thror. As relieved as he was to see his old friend he knew without a doubt who now lay within Dol Guldor. It did not bode well for any of them.

They had to leave, he knew that, so with Thror beside him he made for the exit.

Thror spoke of his ring, how it was taken from him, and of the mountain, of how Thorin must not enter it. The dragon was in league with the One, he said, Thorin must not go inside. But how could he stop them now? Gandalf couldn't, not even if he somehow got word to them, Thorin was too set on entering that mountain. _What have I done?_ He found himself thinking.

He knew they wouldn't be making it out alive the moment he felt the spell lift, and there was Azog the Defiler, waiting for his moment to kill both Gandalf and Thror.

"Where is your master?" Gandalf asked, his staff keeping the white orc at bay, but Azog only jeered at him. He repeated the question.

"He is everywhere," Azog finally replied, laughing at the frightened wizard.

Gandalf stepped back, keeping his eyes on Azog, until he stepped close to the ledge and peered below. What he saw made his worry grow, for there was an army of orcs and wargs, Azog's mocking laughter filled his ears. They would march upon the mountain, he knew that, for it was a prime location for the forces of evil. Even as he realised this, he knew the dwarves had a chance, because Amethyst was with them. He was probably giving her too much credit, relying on the words of prophecy, but she was his only hope.

He blinded Azog with a flash of pure light, taking the chance he grabbed Thror and fled, the orcs hot on their tale. He had magic on his side though and as soon as they had crossed a bridge he turned and commanded the rock to crumble. It smashed through the bridge, taking a warg with it, and for a moment he had hope. But as they reached another bridge he felt the all-consuming darkness that made him quiver.

"You shall not escape here wizard," the voice hissed and Gandalf almost fell, the black void appeared before him and he felt Thror tremble and grab his robes.

"Tell Thorin," the dwarf said, "tell him that I love him. You tell him that Gandalf. That I always loved him."

"You will tell him yourself," Gandalf responded, fighting back, his staff raised to the push the void away. But it shot around him, grabbing Thror and the last Gandalf heard was his pained cry. He created a sphere of light around him, but the darkness pushed against it, it became a battle of magic. Gandalf knew he would lose, but he would not do so without a fight he gave it everything he had. Pouring every bit of his magic into it.

Sauron shattered the sphere and the heat of his wrath disintegrated Gandalf's staff, he threw Gandalf back against the wall appearing before him as a great fiery eye. Gandalf stuttered out his name, wondering if this was to be his last moments, he trembled with eyes filled with tears and regret. Then suddenly he felt it, an all too familiar magical power and beside him a creature appeared. A silvery-white doe. He was filled with warmth, with good magic and the doe inclined its head towards him. _You are not alone,_ the creature seemed to say. The very air vibrated with magic and the visage of Sauron seemed to quiver as though he was unsure what to make of it.

"It cannot be," he hissed, "the Hope of Middle Earth… it cannot be."

The doe snorted and stamped the ground as if to say _oh but it is, watch me, and see the power of Hope._ She cantered forward, charging into the eye and a burst of pure white magic erupted over Dol Guldor, the doe and Sauron disappeared. Gandalf knew he would be back though, Amethyst's magic had only delayed him, but Sauron now knew that Middle Earth wasn't quite as defenceless against him. They had forced Sauron's hand, and that could mean a great deal in the long run. He smiled, collapsing to the ground, knowing he would live another day as he succumbed to blackness.

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A/N: So there you have it! The end of the chapter! Legolas and Amethyst are fun to write together, they just bounce off each other and practically write themselves. Thranduil is more complex then first appears, eugh, writing him is a challenge. Aaaaaand you got to see what Gandalf's been doing. Also, it's Thror with him and not Thrain for a reason, think of Thror more like an illusion. Thrain has a bigger role to play in my story.

Next chapter is half way done, so it shouldn't be long until I post it.

Please review~


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm in a LOTR/Hobbit mood, so I updated my LOTR story yesterday... or was it the day before? Anyway, I updated it, and decided I would update this one too! and omg you are in for a surprise. I won't apologise. It was always meant to happen.

Enjoy~

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She wasn't sure exactly when the ginger elf came to her side, but she couldn't really complain when the female elf appeared in her room – or rather Legolas' room, Merlin only knows _where_ the blonde elf had been sleeping but aside from mornings and the occasional visit she hadn't seen much of him in the past few days. The elleth seemed highly unsure of herself, of what she wanted to do, but there was a determination in her eyes. A need to do what was right that had Amethyst liking the red head.

"I will help you escape, if you help me with the orcs that went after the dwarves," she said finally after moments of staring at Amethyst and pacing. So it was the dwarves that held her interest, or rather, one dark haired dwarf that belonged to the line of Durin. Amethyst smiled.

"To do that means to disobey your king, are you prepared for that?" she responded, knowing it had to be said aloud for it to truly sink in. She didn't need the elleth's help to escape, but it was an intriguing prospect.

"Yes, if it means doing what is right then I am prepared to do it," Ginger nodded her head, holding out Amethyst's weapons to her.

"Then consider me your partner in crime," Amethyst grinned, "I'm Amethyst."

"I do not understand your words completely, but I think that means yes?" she asked causing the witch to nod. "I am Tauriel."

They made it through the guards with an ease that confused Amethyst, it was explained later that Tauriel was a Captain of the Guard and a close friend to the prince. It pays to know people, for they were only questioned once, to which Tauriel told them to go question the king in relation to his, non-existent, order to free Amethyst. No one wanted to get on the bad side of the volatile king and they were free to pass.

"You are the one mentioned in the prophecy are you not?" Tauriel asked as they tracked the orcs.

"Rather reluctantly," she nodded, "it's no small feat living up to expectations all the time. I've found that prophecies are rather fickle. What of you? How did Tauriel become a Captain of the Guard?"

"My ada and naneth were slain by orcs when I was an elfling, the king took pity on me and promised me a place in the guard when I came of age."

"It's not a very nice thing to grow up without parents."

"Your parents died too?"

"They were murdered because the Dark Lord in my world believed in the first prophecy I was bound by," she shrugged, "I've long since gotten over that. Though I daresay your childhood was better than mine. I spent it being hated and abused by my aunt and uncle."

"They hit you?" she asked aghast and Amethyst knew it was because elflings were very precious and rare.

"No, they knew better than to strike me," she smirked at the memory of that, her magic had reacted very violently when her uncle had tried, "but they starved me and locked me the broom cupboard. I thought my name was freak until I reached the age where I went to school."

"That is terrible… to think…" Tauriel shook her head, disgust plain to see in her eyes, "humans are deplorable."

"No, they aren't. Do not judge an entire race based on the actions of a few. You will grow very hateful if you do Tauriel."

"For one so young, you are very wise."

They both wrinkled their noses in disgust as they came to the lake, carcasses and blood littered the shore line, a clear sign of their enemy if ever there was one. Tauriel stood looking worried over the lake, Amethyst wondered what it was that worried her so and if the cause of it was the reason why she was so adamant to betray her king. She paused slightly, her magic calling for her attention tugging at her almost violently, she let it go, an image of Gandalf being pressed against a wall coming to her mind. Her patronus formed in front of her, gave her a bow and sped off. She smiled at the unruliness of her magic, always wanting to help those she grew close to.

Her magic also told her of a presence behind them, moving quietly closer, but it did not sense a threat from the person.

"Blondie!" she cried suddenly, feeling his familiar aura brush against her magic. Tauriel jerked in surprise at her outburst but Amethyst merely span on her heel. "How nice of you to join us."

"My Lord Legolas," Tauriel said, though she was not surprised to see him. He shot her a confused look that bordered on hurt, and Amethyst knew then that Legolas had feelings for Tauriel. A strange feeling rose within her, something that bordered on jealousy, but what had she to be jealous of? It was ridiculous to think that she was envious of the feeling Legolas had for Tauriel, but it was there, lingering beneath the surface. It was unsettling.

"You have defied my father Tauriel," Legolas began, his tone soft and wounded, "you set our… prisoner… free and now chase after the dwarves. He took you in and cared for you. He is hurt by this betrayal, but if you come with me now all will be forgiven."

"But I will not forgive myself," Tauriel responded, "we have never let evil cross our borders. Yet your father would let this orc pack cross our lands and be content to close our doors and let them hunt our prisoners. No, Legolas, I will not return with you."

"It is not our business Tauriel, the dwarves and the orcs are nothing to do with us."

"Open your eyes blondie!" Amethyst found herself crying out, "there is a bigger picture here. Azog wants those dwarves dead, he wants the line of Durin ended, but something else is also fuelling him. They do not want Thorin to reach that mountain…" she stopped suddenly confused. "But why? What would Azog want with Erebor?"

"Gold?" Tauriel asked but Amethyst shook her head.

"I doubt he'd risk the dragon just for gold, it has to be something more than that," frustrated she began to pace.

"What does it matter?" Legolas asked, "what do the Defiler's reasons have to do with things?"

"Everything," her frustration only seemed to get higher, "what does an orc of Moria want with a mountain so far east? C'mon think, Amethyst, be logical, what do you know of Azog…" she paced faster up and down, her finger tapping her forehead as though it would help in the thinking process. "He's a chief, commanding the orcs of Moria… So he's an orc who is high up on the political chain… but again why involve himself so far east? Erebor… it's position…" she faced Tauriel and Legolas who were now watching her with a fascination.

" _Since when do trolls come down from the mountain?" Thorin asked Gandalf, eyeing the stone statues with disgust._

"… _not since a darker power ruled these lands." Came his quite reply._

"Darker power…" she whispered, her head tilting to the side.

" _These are Gundabad Wargs, you'll never out run them." Gandalf huffed, looking at Radagast worriedly._

"The dagger he found at Dol Guldor… the sickness of the forest… the magic I felt… Erebor lays south east of Mount Gundabad yes?"

"Yes," Tauriel nodded.

"And Mordor to the south of Erebor."

"What are you thinking?" Tauriel asked finally.

"Erebor is a key location between Mordor and Angmar, take the mountain and evil once more gains a foothold into Angmar," she hoped she was just overthinking things, "after the Battle of Fornost the Witch-King fled to Mordor. The Witch-King, Azog and the sickness that lays over Mirkwood all have something in common."

"Dark magic," Legolas whispered with a growing realisation.

"And who commands such dark magic?" they didn't need to answer her question, for they all knew who it was.

"He was defeated, ages ago. He was destroyed," Legolas all but shouted.

"And so was the Dark Lord of my world," she responded hollowly, "when I was a baby he came into my home and tried to kill me. I was protected by the sacrifice my mother made. But the curse he used rebounded and hit him, the killing curse, it killed his body but his spirit endured. He was kept alive through a very powerful dark magic. He bound his soul to an object and thus endured."

"You think Sauron did the same?" Tauriel asked.

"Yes," she whispered, a flash of a golden Ring appeared in her mind's eye and the muttering of Black Speech.

"How do you know this is the truth?" Legolas asked, "isn't this just guesswork? How will we know?"

"I don't know," she whispered feeling frustrated at her lack of answers. "But the dwarves cannot enter that mountain. Smaug cannot give his allegiance to Sauron, if he does then Sauron gains a very powerful piece to play with."

"Then we must get to the mountain before the dwarves and deal with Smaug," Legolas declared and Tauriel agreed though with more reluctance.

"I must deal with Smaug," she faced them, a weary look in her eyes. "I must do it alone."

"You cannot," Legolas argued.

"I must," she told him, smiling softly, he reminded her of Hermione when she'd wanted to go with her to face Voldemort. A part of her wanted him with her, but she knew he could not come. Legolas, though highly skilled, was no match for a dragon. She had magic. She couldn't concentrate on Smaug _and_ keep Legolas safe. "You go to Laketown, help defeat the orcs. I will head towards the mountain."

"It is too dangerous," Legolas whispered. "You could die."

"I'm the girl-who-lived." She tilted her head to side and gave him a soft smile. "Don't worry, blondie, I will be back to annoy you with my outlandishness soon."

OoO

Gandalf moaned as he awoke, a pounding in his head and a soreness in every muscle, it took him a moment to gain his bearings. To remember what had happened. He gasped and jerked, the cage around him rattled with the movement. "Amethyst," he croaked, he remembered her magic saving him and dispersing Sauron's black energy. He remembered Thror and Sauron taking him.

"I was dead long before Sauron got to me."

The voice startled him and he looked down to see the old dwarf, his hair white and his eyes clear of the madness that had been there before. Gandalf was confused, he brought a weary hand up to rub his temples.

"I died at Moria, at the hands of Azog," he told Gandalf. "What I am now is a soul, sent from the beyond in order to give you a message, or rather to give _her_ a message. I was meant to be sent to Rivendell, but something went wrong and I landed here in Dol Guldor at the mercy of Sauron and I forgot my purpose. I remember it now."

"Who sent you?" Gandalf asked.

"Mahal," Thror responded with a heavy heart, he ran a hand over his face. "Oh, that I was alive and able to change the past. I see now my errors, I see that what is to come is because of me. There is little I can do, Gandalf, save for this. I was sent with words of warning. You must tell her Gandalf, she is the only one that can save us all, the only one that can stop the forces of evil."

"Calm yourself and tell me what I need to know," Gandalf urged, worry filling him for there was no doubt in his mind that he spoke of Amethyst.

"Tell her this," Thror took a deep breath, looking more afraid than ever. "The chain is weakening and the door unlocking. The guard shall soon sleep and black shall be Sun and Moon. The blessed one shall emerge and the battle shall be fought. Master and pupil shall unite to command at their hand a terrible force. Hope shall dwindle but never die. At the final hour, when tears run dry, she shall emerge daughter of stars and magic."

Dread filled Gandalf, for he knew well the hidden words within Thror's speech and he knew the battles to come would be hard fought. More than ever, he regretted the decision to convince Thorin to take back the mountain. He hoped with every fibre of his being that Amethyst would be safe, for only she could save them all when the time came.

"You must tell her," Thror told him once again before fading out of view.

OoO

She sat on the ledge, her legs swinging back and forth as she hummed a tune under her breath, her magic had brought her to the ledge so she knew this must be the way into the mountain. But without the knowledge of where the door might be hidden she had to wait for Thorin to catch up. She was trying her best not to think of Smaug, though she ought to come up with a plan, the dragon frightened her to some extent. This wasn't the instinctual beasts from her world, Smaug was intelligent and sly and the forces of evil wanted his allegiance. She had to propose a counter offer that would be too tempting to resist.

She heard the dwarves before she saw them. A fond smile lighting her face as she recognised the muffled curses and the huffing and panting of the Company. Their heavy footfalls always amused her. She saw the haggled bunch before they saw her. In fact it wasn't the dwarves who noticed her at all, rather it was Bilbo.

"Amethyst," Bilbo breathed in shock, she turned to him with a soft smile.

"Hello, Bilbo," she said. "It's been a while. Did you miss me?"

He didn't say anything, merely threw his arms around her and hugged her as tight as he could. He began apologising profusely for leaving her behind. She reassured him and told him it didn't matter. Thorin nodded at her, before ordering the dwarves to look for the door, apparently they didn't know where it was either. Bilbo sat beside her and she told him her tale of meeting the King of Mirkwood, in return he told her how he set the dwarves free and escaped Mirkwood. _Barrels! I would have loved to have seen the dwarves stuffed into barrels._ Of their trip to Lake Town and Thorin's promise to the help the people once he retook the mountain. Fili, Kili, Bofur and Oin were left behind in Lake Town, mostly due to Kili's injury from a morgul shaft.

By the time they had finished catching up, the sun had set and Thorin was yelling angrily and thumping the wall. She tilted her head to watch him, a secretive smile playing on her face. "Why are you angry?" she asked softly.

"It had all been for naught," Thorin told her, slumping to the ground in defeat. "We have lost the light."

"Sunlight, yes. Moonlight, no." She responded, he gave her a confused look. "The runes on the map were revealed by the light of the moon. It makes sense that the door will be revealed by moonlight also."

He looked to her as though she was world. A startling awe and respect within his eyes, he stood and smiled before marching over to her and gripping her shoulders. "You never cease to amaze me, woman," he told her laughing.

She rolled her eyes and used a spell to disperse the clouds and allow the moonlight to shine directly where they were standing. She could have used a spell to recreate moonlight earlier in the day, but just because she _could_ didn't mean she had to. Relying on magic for everything was just plain lazy. The silvery light caught on the key hole and the dwarves twittered excitedly. Thorin stepped up and, with trembling fingers, placed the key in the lock and twisted.

The dwarves lingered in the doorway, admiring the throne carving and translating the Kuzdul above it to Bilbo. Amethyst stepped away from them, walking down the hallway a little. Guilt ate at her at what she was about to do, but there was a bigger picture beyond reclaiming the mountain and she needed Smaug on her side. Sending Bilbo down there, aggravating the beast, and taunting him would not give her what she needed.

"Amethyst?" Bilbo's voice seemed to rise above the others, the dwarves turned their attention to her too.

She tried to smile at them but it came out as a grimace. Flinching, she looked away and took a deep breath, trying to pluck up her infamous Gryffindor courage.

"Amethyst?" This time it was Thorin's voice that questioned her. "What are you doing?"

"Bilbo shan't be going any further." She told them, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. "I need to speak to the dragon, to see if I can reason with him and bring him to my side. Darkness is coming and I need to be prepared."

Thorin moved forwards, an ugly anger rising within him and a snarl twisting his face into a stranger. "Have you been on the dragon's side all this time?" he spat, sounding mad and furious. She didn't blame him. "Was helping us a ploy to get you in this mountain? You want the Arkenstone for yourself. Greedy wench. I should have known! No elf friend could ever be true and honest."

"I have no desire for the Arkenstone," she responded with a sigh. "I'm sorry for this," she thrust her hand out, sending the dwarves and a stunned hobbit outside, the door slamming shut behind them. "Perhaps one day you will understand." The words were whispered to the air.

Erebor was as creepy as Grimmauld Place, its hallways were long and filled with cobwebs, there was an eerie silence that stank of death and decay. Shadows stalked her, looming from the glowing tip of her wand. She thought it to be a desolate place until she stumbled upon the treasury, the entire cavern glimmered gold, it reflected upon the walls and bounced of all manner of gems, trinkets and objects. It was overwhelming to behold the wealth of Erebor. Certainly, it was something all manner of creatures would lust for, not just dragons.

Hesitantly she stepped upon the golden surface, coins crunching under her feet and slipping and sliding under the foreign pressure. She had no idea where to begin looking for a dragon in the mighty hoard. All she could do was walk and hope she would disturb the beast. She searched and searched, until her legs began to ache and her feet grew sore. She cursed Thorin's grandfather for ever amassing such a ridiculous amount of gold. It didn't show his power, it showed his greed and arrogance. Something she agreed with Thranduil on, perish the thought.

Above her gold began to slid, it wasn't her doing and a sudden fear managed to out maneuverer her courage. She trembled. A puff of air sent a plumage of gold coins flying into the air. The dragon was awake. She could see the shifting gold all around her, Smaug's size was terrible to behold. She saw his eye open, two lids, one vertical and one horizontal. The great orb of varying shakes of yellow, red and orange, took her in before closing and opening once more. Smaug rose his head, his body shifting as he stood and stretched his wings.

"It had been a long time since I beheld a female," he began, his voice low and mocking. "Have you come to steal from me, little thief?"

"I have no desire for this gold," she responded, trying to muster up her courage once more.

"I smell the truth of your words," he moved closer to her, his eye appearing right in front of her, twitching as he took in her form. He moved again, this time his tongue lolling out, tasting the air, tasting her. "You taste like power," he informed her with a rumble in his gut. "What do you desire, little thief?"

"World peace would be great," she mumbled. "I desire your friendship, oh great dragon, Smaug."

"Friendship," Smaug hissed, rearing back as if struck. "Don't make me laugh human. Friendship does not exist, least of all between a dragon and a human. No, you seek to deceive me, but I am the greatest deceiver of all."

He let out a loud, earth shaking roar, it was meant to intimidate but Amethyst had never really responded well to intimidation. Smaug, seeing this, shot forwards and snapped at her with his powerful jaws. She rolled to the side, coming up before his large right eye and, in less than a second, her own eyes flashed golden and she entered the dragon's mind.

She stood upon a large grassy field, watching the scene play out before her. A woman stood before a large river, she wore a large flowing gypsy skirt and a ruffled tunic, her hair was unbound, long chestnut waves flowed through the air as she span. A glorious laugh left her parted lips. She looked beautiful, angelic even, her carefree actions brought a smile to Amethyst's face.

"Mama!"

A boy ran past her, his dark curls bouncing a top his head, thick and soft looking, he was small and dressed in clothes stained in mud and grass. His arms opened wide as he got near his mother. The woman didn't miss a beat, mid-turn she scooped the boy up and continued twirling.

"My beautiful Smaug!" The woman cried joyfully, pausing to lay a kiss upon his cheek and hold him close to her bosom. "How I love you, my son."

The scene changed and she found herself in the same grassy field, but it was darker somehow and it had nothing to do with the hidden moon. There was something sinister in the air and it creeped ever closer to her.

"Monsters deserve to die," the voice was hissed out, a menacing echo on breeze. "Your spawn deserves to be put down."

"Please! Not my boy!" The plea was a stark difference from the laughter she had heard only moments before. Whirling around she saw a scene that broke her heart. Smaug's mother kneeled upon the ground, a platoon of heavily armed men around her, she was bloody, broken and had clearly been raped. "He's innocent."

"Tell us where he is, whore," one of the guards spat, back handing the woman across the face.

Across the river, she a figure in the trees, a small boy with golden eyes watching the torture of his mother. Amethyst was forced to bear witness to it as well. She watched as each soldier had there go of the woman, listened as her screams subsided and her eyes became dull. She refused to tell them where her son was, so they laughed, stuffed a stone into her mouth and sowed her lips shut with leather. Night turned into day which turned into night once more. They cut off her fingers and toes, yanked the hair from her head and raped her once more before the captain plunged his sword into her chest, pulled out her heart. A dragon's heart was a delicacy, she heard him declare, and watched as he cooked and ate it.

She tore from Smaug's mind with a sob, slipped on the coins and fell, she crawled away, fighting the urge to puke. The woman's screams echoed in her head, her bloody form and dead eyes lingered in her mind. Suddenly it wasn't Smaug's mother, it was her own, her own sweet mother who had refused to give up her baby to Voldemort.

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered, her body shaking and face pale. "You were just a boy," she sobbed, angered and full of disbelief at the cruelty of humans.

"A dragon first learns to conjure fire," Smaug told her, his voice faraway and remembering. "The village my mother and I lived in saw my fire and alerted the nearby city. The soldiers came after us. We made it to the clearing before they caught us. Mother sent me across the river and bound me to that tree with her magic. Magic I could not overcome. I watched as they humiliated her, beat her and raped her. I hated them and all humans. I should kill you."

"I would not blame you if you did," she told him, watching as he circled around her. "Humans… we can be deplorable at times. To be cursed for what you are, for what had no say in being. Your mother… she did not deserve that…' Even she hated her kind for what they had done to the poor woman.

Smaug gave a rumbling growl in agreement, his belly glowed amber and she knew the flames within were churning through his body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, because someone should be sorry, should apologise for the tragedy he witnessed as a child. "I'm so sorry she suffered. I'm so sorry you lost her. To grow up with special abilities without a parent to guide you is hard. If I had the power to stop what happened to her, to protect you both, I would."

The amber died away, growing cold and returning to its dark colour once more. He drew close to her, breathing in the air. "You are not like other humans. You do not beg for your life but apologise for the loss of my mother's." He told her, a curiosity to his tone and a light in his eyes that made the rage simmer down. "You smell of dragon magic. What are you?"

"I'm not from this world," she told him. "I'm a witch, one who possesses a great deal of magic. I'm the heir of the most powerful wizard to have ever existed, his name was Merlin. He was a Dragon Lord. Dragons in my world cannot speak the common tongue, they are more primitive and rely solely on their instincts, Merlin could speak to them. They had to obey his words, but he never ruled them, nor did he abuse his power. He used it only when necessary, in return, the dragons came to his aide when he called. I have that same power."

She'd been fourteen when she first used it. She'd fallen off her broom and landed heavily at the bottom of the chasm at Hogwarts, the Hungarian Horntail had landed nearby and was intent on making her its next meal. She'd used it unconsciously and bid the dragon to sleep. It worked and she escaped.

"It's why my eyes glowed gold," she murmured, feeling more comfortable in the knowledge that Smaug would not hurt her. "It's why I wanted to talk to you before…" she trailed off.

"Before the dwarves seek to take back my mountain," Smaug finished for her. "Yes, I can smell them. Vile creatures. Don't even taste good." The last part was mumbled to himself but she heard him.

"They wanted to kill you," she told him, raising a hand and placing it on his hide, scratching lightly. Smaug gave a rumbling purr, reminding her of a contented kitten rather than a great fire breathing dragon. "But I could not let that happen. Dragons are so few in this world. My magic and yours are so similar that I could not let them harm you without at least trying."

"Strange human," he told her, but she felt his magic brush against hers, almost familial in nature. "I find myself believing in your honesty, little witch."

"Then you become my friend and ally?" she asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," he rumbled. "I have been lazy here beneath this gold, perhaps it is time I begin to have hope in this world. Very well, little witch, I place my trust in your hands."

"Thank you," she smiled, scratching his tough hide once more. "I will endeavour not to break-" she could not finish her sentence for a sharp pain had her crying out. Confused, she only coughed wetly, watching as blood sprayed upon the dragon's scales. It took her a moment to realise that it had come from her, that the pain she felt was from the arrow that was now piercing through her chest. She looked down at its twisted point with a morbid fascination, her blood dripping from the arrowhead.

Smaug drew back with a furious roar, she turned to find Thorin, bow in his hand, glaring at the both of them.

"I was a fool to have you trusted you," he spat, angrily and slightly deranged. "You are not the Hope of Middle Earth. You are a servant of evil."

Beside him the other dwarves looked from their leader to Amethyst in horror and shock. But it was Bilbo she settled her gaze upon, watching as he cried out her name, yelled at Thorin and tried to approach her. The other dwarves didn't let him, instead, they were forced to flee under the wrath of Smaug's dragon fire. Smaug gave chase, leaving her alone amongst the cold gold.

She fell forwards, her eyes, glassy and dazed, found the Arkenstone, she watched it for a moment, entranced by its ethereal glow and dancing colours. It truly was stunning. She reached for it, her strength weakening, she gripped it as tight as she could before wrapping it in her magic.

"Go to Bilbo," she told it, for there was no one more she trusted with such an object. "Tell him not to give it to Thorin. Go to Bilbo." It disappeared.

She moaned in pain, using the last of her magical energy she banished the arrow and rolled over. The high ceiling of the treasury looked so far away, a dark and dull heaven that she could not, and did not want to, reach. The gold beneath her was a gilded hell, a cursed thing and tainted with malice and greed. She would have to do something about that, cast a purification spell or two. Only, she was so tired, her body hurt and she just wanted to rest. She closed her eyes and succumbed to darkness.

* * *

Random Omake (because I was bored):

Meanwhile in Mirkwood.

Thranduil looked over the bottles with a critical eye, a noise of consideration leaving his rose red lips, one was smaller than the other, silver in colour, the other was black. Clearly the latter held more within its container, but it was quality he was after, not quantity. He sighed, his was the worst part about bath time. His yellow ducky and rubber submarine made it fun to play in the water, but when it came to washing his hair he dreaded the thoughts. Sometimes, he wished his wife were still alive just so she could make the decision for him.

"Do I chose L'Oreal?" he pondered, tapping a finger against his chin. "I'm certainly worth it. It does say it brings the clarity back in blonde hair. I do like my blonde hair to be extra blonde. But I think Legolas uses this one, using the same shampoo as my son… It might make me hip with the young crowd. Come to think of it… Legolas is the youngest in my kingdom and he is coming onto his three-thousandth year. Is there anyone young enough to be hip with? Do they even say hip? I should find some young humans and ask."

He was getting side-tracked. He picked up the black bottle and read the information. "Salon silk? Oh my… I do like my hair silky. Up to seven times smoother hair!?" he gasped and clutched the bottle to him. "Calms frizz and flyaway hair, sweet Elbereth, can it get any better? Tames unruly hair leaving it smooth and salon-soft. I think we have a winner, oh Tresemme, do what you say on the bottle and you can add the official hair care product of King Thranduil to your label. That's sure to get you more customers."

He giggled in pure joy, quickly pouring the Tresemme shampoo into his hand, he lightly massaged it into his scalp. He couldn't wait to show off his new extra silky hair to his subjects, he looked forward to making them jealous and envious.

* * *

A/N: OMG! The shock! The horror! Hate me if you must, I made Thorin shoot Amethyst, before you jump down my throat and hate me completely, this had to happen for both Thorin and Amethyst to develop! There is a method to my madness. What do you think of my Smaug? He's a little different to canon, in that he is a shape shifter and a little nicer... to Amethyst... no one else. I mean, currently, he wants bbq dwarf so yeah. Either way, Bilbo still got the Arkenstone.

What did you think of Thror? And his prophetic-like words? Can you figure it out? I spent so long trying to word in a way that was cryptic, yet it could be worked out if you thought about it.

So, to sum up, Thorin succumbed to gold sickness upon seeing the treasure of Erebor. He shot Amethyst because he thought she was conspiring with Smaug, who he believes is the source of all evil. Amethyst may or may not be dead. Legolas and Tauriel are heading for Lake Town. Gandalf is trapped in Dol Guldor and mulling over the words told him by Thror, who wasn't really alive to begin with. Aaaaaaand Thranduil decides on his new shampoo product and worries whether or not he is hip enough, because my brain decided this would be a good thing to write... it scares me sometimes.

Please Review.


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